Sailor Rifts
by Simon Woodington
Summary: The Bishoujo Sailor Senshi are unwillingly brought to post-apocalyptic Rifts Earth.
1. Prologue

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Book One: Kokoro Aku (Spirit of Evil)  
  
  
Prologue  
  
His crimson glare caused her to flinch. Her angry expression somehow  
managed to portray the fear of the consequences regarding her failure  
rather than her usual calm fury. She had cost the NegaForce a great  
deal of valuable energy. Furthermore, she was defeated by the Bishojo  
Sailor Senshi. Living seemed like the worst of options under the  
scrutiny of her elder. She rather hoped to die. There was no telling  
what would happen after this.  
  
'Beryl, I should send you to the Abyss!' his voice crackled, short of  
sounding menacing. 'I cannot believe you were defeated by such foolish  
girls!'  
  
She said nothing. There was no excuse.  
  
'It amazes me to think you masterminded the destruction of the Moon  
Kingdom, just to fail here!' His robe was nigh aglow with his fury.  
'What will you do next, steal candy from a child?'  
  
Resentment became clear in her eyes.  
  
'A child! Uraki-Ayo-sama, that girl - Usagi! - she was no child! She  
had the ginzuishou.'  
  
'Silence!' he growled from his throne. A slash of bluish light struck  
her weakness bound body to the marble floor and disappated as if  
mocking her. She fell with practiced ease, her training protecting her  
when her reflexes could not. The cold shudder of the attack reminded  
her of his greater power. Still vague in retaliation, she met his eyes  
with a waning ferocity.  
  
'Have the sense to know your place, you ridiculous woman! Your  
dishonour betrays you,' his glare held firm, demanding submission.  
'The facts speak to us well, and best you heed them, for I will not  
tolerate your ignorant chatterings.'  
  
She sighed internally, tension and fear in her beaten frame. She gazed  
around briefly, noting that none of her senshi had relaxed. Nor should  
they. Should she survive this, they would have much to answer for. Nor  
may it yet be by her hand. The midnight tones around them shimmered  
with dark streaks of blue and red energy, indicating the strong  
presence of the NegaForce. It made sense, of course, that the lines  
should be so obvious. They were in the Temple of Galaxia, after all.  
  
'Perhaps you failed to notice my presense during your quest to destroy  
the Heir of the Moon Kingdom,' he began, getting to his feet awkwardly  
with the aid of his staff. 'Sepukku is not an honour that will be  
yours."  
  
Suddenly, she found herself trembling. Whether it was by pure shame,  
being so dishonoured, or by the sheer fear of his whim. He was  
ensuring she would never gain a place in the ranks of Galaxia's  
warriors.  
  
'So you will have them to yourself? Hai Uraki-Ayo-sama? Gozemashita.'  
  
'As you would, but not as you did. Your presumptions tempt my desires  
woman - slave or entrapped I wonder, neh?'  
  
She did not revel in the thought of eternal sleep, or eternal service  
to him. Belaying the depressing contemplation, she gazed down at  
herself, as much in submission as to review - once again - her  
physical status. The remarkable healing power once granted her by  
Galxia's power now seemed vacant, and only the robe served to cover  
her badly war worn body. Being reduced to less than atoms did little  
for comfort. She found regaining the strength to merely stand took  
several long, anger inducing minutes. Her wavy, waist length red hair  
appeared flawless, despite her downfall. While the robe did cover her  
body, only her stiffly unemotional face could mask the agony she had  
been subjected to under the possession of Galaxia. Another scar of  
pain to add to the rest, she relented, accepting it on her faith in  
the NegaForce.  
  
'Galaxia was wize to possess you, but for you to create such  
emergency,' he muttered fiercely. 'It cannot be forgiven.'  
  
'You would call me presumptous - you have not tasted the power of that  
girl! Even as we were once beated back many ages ago by the Queen of  
their fallen Kingdom!'  
  
'It is only by Her whim that you survive to spout such nonsense!' he  
flared, a bright red aura flashing about him briefly. 'Certainly you  
can appreciate the significance of that, hai...'  
  
She curled up inside. This meant that Galaxia had plans for her, and  
idea which almost spurned her onward to cause her death by his fury.  
  
'My foe, the senshi...' she muttered.  
  
'They were never yours, woman,' he snapped, walking up to her and  
studying her eyes, watchful of rebellion. 'You will leave, and await  
Galaxia.'  
  
She looked back at him, gaze steady, yet indomitably furious. Even as  
she thought to speak, her mouth formed not a single sound. He did not  
relent his hard gaze, working to bury her pride with it. Finally, her  
eyes fell, and her head bowed.  
  
'Hai my lord,' she muttered angrily. 'I obey.'  
  
He paused, knowing she would not leave immediately. What seemed a  
decade passed before he spoke again. Finally, as if tasting the  
sweetest bit of victory, he added: 'Go.'  
  
Her well-figured form faded into darkness with a scowl written darkly  
across her face. Egotistically pleased with himself, he snickered, and  
grinned, 'and now, my dear Queen, I show you how it is done.'  
  
---  
  
'Mercury, no!' Sailor Moon cried as her friend jumped at the flame  
lion that had appeared out of the strange portal only minutes before.  
  
'I won't let you hurt my friends!' the blue haired scout said, calm in  
her anger. "Shabon Spray Freezing!"  
  
A cold wind blew across the park, where they had happened into the  
shimmering blue gateway. As the icy uttering swept nearby trees, their  
leaves froze, losing their earlier animation. The flame lion stood,  
the intensity of its fiery coat waning under the frigid attack of  
Mercury's summoning.  
  
The lion had yet to speak; and the first vocal castings left a chill  
down Mercury's spine. The deep voice let out in an animal war cry.  
Mercury could not miss the implications as the creature leapt at her,  
claws tearing, and jaw snapping. She fell limp to the ground, the  
lion's teeth firmly caught in her shoulder.  
  
"Supreme Thunder!" came a voice. A bright flash snapped through the  
air and seized the already fazed flame beast, which dropped Mercury's  
motionless frame.  
  
'Jupiter!' exclaimed the blond haired leader of the senshi.  
  
'I couldn't let that Nega-creep get the best of you, I...' her voice  
faltered as she took stock of why her friend had not moved to help  
Mercury.  
  
Sailor Moon looked up at Jupiter, tears trailing down her face. In her  
arms she held a badly wounded Mars.  
  
'Th-that...' Jupiter stammered as she knelt down next to Sailor Moon.  
Mars' eyes trembled as they opened again, and came to regard Jupiter.  
  
'Makoto...' she said, her voice faint.  
  
'What happened...?'  
  
'The... lion came through that,' Usagi supplied in hushed tones as she  
pointed to the portal, 'and attacked us... we barely had time to  
transform...!'  
  
Sailor Jupiter merely bowed her head for a moment, before raising it  
again and standing. Her eyes glowered angrily under the brown locks  
and ponytail of her hair.  
  
'Jupiter you can't! It'll...'  
  
'Jupiter! Wait! I'll help you,' Minako ran up to stand next to her,  
her long straight blond hair flowing out behind her.  
  
Jupiter simply nodded, looking deeply wronged and darkly intense.  
Minako regarded her friend for a moment, noting uneasily that she  
could not remember her seeming so fierce.  
  
Minako raised her hand, her transformation pen turning aside it before  
it closed as she cried:  
  
"Venus Star Power - Make Up!"  
  
Moments later, that same voice rang out:  
  
"Crescent Beam!"  
  
Just as the yellow beam sought the flame lion, it began to change  
color. It came to match the tinge of the flame lion, which had turned  
a dull sapphire. The sliver of blue light touched the lion, and as it  
did, Venus screamed.  
  
'Venus!' Jupiter cried, eyes wide.  
  
'No!!' Usagi shrieked, and burst into passionate tears.  
  
Venus stood, her face transfixed in an expression of pain, before her  
form wavered and faded in a nimbus of blue light. A sapphire point of  
light appeared and hung in mid-air. The breach in reality expanded,  
forming an oval portal. Jupiter looked aghast, as she noted Minako,  
gazing helplessly at them.  
  
'Okay Nega-jerk, you're going to get moon-dusted!' Jupiter snarled.  
"Sparkling Wide Pressure!"  
  
A brilliant shard of electric blue light oriented on the flame lion as  
Jupiter gave a powerful underhand motion. Before she had even  
completed the arc, the lion roared, and the shard halted. Jupiter  
gasped, all at once astonished and scared. There was a moment of  
silence, and Jupiter screamed.  
  
'Jupiter!'  
  
Before Usagi could utter another word in desperation, the lion gave  
out another low war cry. The blue portal uttered out, grasping the  
forms within reach. Usagi held tightly to the badly wounded Mars,  
determined not to let her go.  
  
Each of the five Sailors fought against the consuming blue light as it  
gripped them. Moments passed, and the struggle reigned. Mercury  
dropped to her knees, her shimmering transparent form falling  
unconscious.  
  
'Ngggh... Mercury!' Usagi managed tensely. She grit her teeth as pain  
wracked her body. Minako fell, no longer able to hold against the  
force that struggled to overwhelm her. Usagi found she could not even  
cry out at her friend's collapse. Somehow, she felt that this was one  
battle that the senshi might not win.  
  
'I'm so sorry Sailor M- uunn,' Jupiter gave, and fell to her knees,  
her strength failing her.  
  
Usagi winced against the blue light, the grasping blue portal. She  
felt the fight leaving her as a warm faint feeling began to consume  
her.  
  
As Mars slipped from her arms, taken by unseen hands, Usagi found that  
she lacked the strength to struggle. She held for a moment, but her  
fingers slipped easily. She fell forward, darkness grasping her mind.  
  
As felines always do, the deep blue flame lion appeared to grin. If  
one was to pay attention, one might hear a low chuckle rise in its  
throat. As the portal took the last of the Sailor Senshi into it's  
frame, it faded, and disappeared, leaving only the stale evening  
breeze alone in the darkness of the evening. 


	2. Only the Rebel Knows Truly Her Enemy

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 1: Only the Rebel Knows Truly Her Enemy  
  
Time. Probably one of the most alien and familiar aspects of life. Something to  
which many feelings have been ascribed. At this particular moment, labourous,  
unyielding, unsympathetic, unmerciful, and foremost both responsible and not.  
  
Yet, to the five anxiety-laden young women, there was a sheer gratefulness.  
  
They were alive.  
  
Consciousness, to the young Princess Tsukino Usagi, had returned during what  
appeared to be a stunningly glorious midday. They lay somewhat precariously  
strewn about the edge of a densely populated oil painting-like forest of rich  
jades and deep coppery earth tones against a soft butter-yellow and crystal  
blue sky.  
  
'Usagi-chan...'  
  
It was Minako, her beach-blond waist length hair slipped over her white and  
blue sailor school suited smooth shoulders. She helped the wounded, fatigued  
young leader sit up, and watched as she winced, gasping out at the echoed pain  
of several cracked ribs.  
  
'Mina-chan...? Are you okay?' she asked, gritting her teeth.  
  
'Um, I guess,' she muttered. "You're hurtÉ"  
  
Usagi grasping her rib cage. Dully, and oddly, she realized now would not be  
the appropriate moment to burst into tears.  
  
"It's okay. I'mÉ" she shut her mouth and was quiet.  
  
Altogether unusually selfless.  
  
"Hai Usagi-chanÉ" she nodded vaguely.  
  
Usagi's gaze wandered over the others, who sat in a very small circle,  
including the previously near fatally wounded raven haired priestess, Hino Rei.  
  
'Rei!' she called, running her hands over a few of the mulitude of bruises by  
which she was marked. The recepient nodded, her lips tightening into a  
compressed line as their gazes met. She nimbly pulled back a collection of her  
thick, well-kempt hair which hung loosely, albeit messily, over her left  
shoulder.  
  
'You almost died!' she wailed, running over to her and hugging her desperately.  
'What happened?!'  
  
'I don't know!' she barked, shoving her back slightly. 'Get off me Usagi-chan!'  
  
'I'm sorry,' she sniffled. 'I just...'  
  
'I know...' she replied with a heavy sigh.  
  
Usagi plunked herself amongst her friends, somehow feeling very distant, even  
though she could easily lay her hand upon any of them just then.  
  
'Where are we?' Makoto half-growled, eyes darting.  
  
Ami played her delicate fingers over her compact computer. A stricken look bent  
her thin eyebrows, and twisted her small mouth in a deeply ingrained frown.  
  
'We're not home... um, I mean, on Earth, Usagi-chan. Whatever that portal  
was... it took us away.'  
  
'We should transform,' she noted, running her fingers through on of the thick,  
tangled length of distinctly unique hair.  
  
'We can't. At least, I couldn't. I don't know if it's because our powers won't  
work here, or if we're all too scared.'  
  
'What good would it do even if we did?' Rei asked weakly. Makoto frowned  
sternly, standing, and grasping her transformation pen.  
  
'We've got to try. I meanÉ It's better than not trying.'  
  
She then raised her arm and proclaimed:  
  
'Sailor Jupiter - Make Up!'  
  
The girls stared on as her second stage transformation introduced the power of  
her senshi title as uniform, something that still presented so little hope in  
the doubt that surrounded.  
  
'It does matter,' Rei negated. 'You can't possibly have enough power to  
teleport us all home.'  
  
'Why don't you try?' she barked, eyes narrowed as she faced her, hands upon her  
impressive hips.  
  
'I...' Rei replied, unabated fear written on her face. Hesitantly, she stood,  
taking her red handled pen in hands, and gazing at it brief before raising it  
and calling:  
  
'Sailor Mars - Make Up!'  
  
Her mystic metamorphosis transcended her lack of confidence, bringing her the  
somewhat waned semblence of her heroically proven alter ego. Then, as they  
looked on, her white and red uniform shimmered and retreated as she collapsed  
to the soft grassy earth. Tearily, she shook her head, huddling against Ami,  
who hugged her comfortingly.  
  
'I'm sorry... so sorry!' she cried, voice wavering.  
  
Abruptly, as Usagi approached Rei to lend her support and soft words, a  
stunning blast threw her to the unyielding earth.  
  
'No!' Jupiter snarled, whirling to face the enemy, and froze in abject horror.  
It was no more than a second that she stared upon the futuristic saucer-like  
airborne barge, upon which was a snake-like creature surrounded by four lovely  
grey body-suited young women. The nearest, despite the eye masking silver-grey  
helmet upon her head, fired an energy bolt from what looked like a wrist  
mounted weapon. Makoto barely dodged this, and gave out a cry as Minako  
crumbled to the ground at the impact of the weapon fired by the strange woman  
next to her.  
  
'Supreme Thunder!'  
  
The shard of electric force struck and rocked the barge, after which plain,  
simple attacks from the strange women brought down the remained senshi. In a  
blind rage, Jupiter leap at the alien vessel, and folded, dropping like a heap  
of stones as she was knocked aside by twin flashes of energy.  
  
Gazing faintly at the barge as it hovered over them, she felt weakness draw her  
to a dark, cool place.  
  
---  
  
Over a crystal of turquoise, a woman marred by the violence of fist, whip, and  
neural mace raised her closed fist to the middle of her chest, her heart, and  
bowed her head.  
  
"Sivil-san!"  
  
The young battered dirty blond snapped her head towards the voice as she tapped  
a switch hidden in her wrist, a cool, unruffled look sharing the address with  
the faintly attractive features of her face. The crystal faded to what might  
have been an alternate reality. Her voice was calm, none of the abundant  
tension she felt evident in her manner.  
  
"Yes, Usagi-chan?"  
  
"My friends, my..." :Team? Is that even right anymore?: "Um, they're ready.  
Are..." the pig-tailed blond paused, her eyes wandering helplessly. "Are we  
going to leave?"  
  
Sivil nodded firmly.  
  
"Yes. We must. Do the clothes fit?"  
  
Was there nothing remaining of which she was uncertain? Reluctantly, she  
succumbed to this truth, internally. Wistfully, she nodded, running her fingers  
over the icy silver silk cat suit. Concern lit upon Sivil's pleasant, yet hard  
face.  
  
"How are you doing?"  
  
"We're alive," she stated softly in the somewhat awkward verbal conjugation of  
English, as if the fact surprised her.  
  
"No," she negated. "I mean you, Usagi. Maybe you should talk to them. Before we  
go."  
  
She shrugged absently.  
  
"They need you," Sivil stated. "There's no one else to lead them. They depend  
on you."  
  
Usagi's sapphire eyes reached for her, and set steadily upon her. A momentary  
focus flickered.  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
Sivil froze in word and deed for an instant before allowing herself to speak.  
  
"It's obvious. You're a natural leader."  
  
Usagi shook the husk of recent pain for a moment while she bristled with pride.  
  
"Really? You think so?"  
  
"Yes Usagi, I really do," and gentle smile broke the mask of stalwart emotional  
death. For a moment she considered the young woman, before letting her words  
travel forth. 'Do you need time?'  
  
"Do we have time?" The pride dropped and scurried into a darkened recess of her  
consciousness, not to be forgotten.  
  
"Long enough." Her facade of strength returned, eyes averted slightly.  
  
"How long is that?" she nearly whined, sounding frightened.  
  
"Just tell me when you're ready to go," she stated, turning away, leaving the  
matter closed.  
  
Saying nothing, Usagi retreated from the room. This woman, this light offering  
hope, one destroyed when they arrived here, when it became clear their  
situation, was an odd creature. There was a silhouette of death standing beside  
her, a dismal shadow drawing Usagi short of confidence.  
  
It had been hard to give up. To submit to the Splugorth Slaver. No, that had  
not been difficult. When it came down it, they never did. What had it been?  
Painful. To watch her friends as their strength failed, as their training  
faultered. To see that Luna and Artemis were gone, that she could not reach  
Mamoru again, that he could not protect her, nor touch her again.  
  
That was the most dramatic point. Fear. Of everything.  
  
'Usagi-chan? What did she say?' Ami's voice and language of body spoke of her  
demure nature, as ever, yet there was an additional anxiety to her. Usagi waved  
her off, sitting with mildly graceful motions in a small circle of cushions.  
Silently, she bid the others join her. Slowly, they did, each in a varied state  
of a theme in mind and soul.  
  
Makoto, as the fury and strength of the Sailor Senshi, looked beaten, as the  
others, yet she remained unshaken, powerful. To Usagi it was clear that she  
would be the last to fall. Ami's battered form - slender as a cat, despite any  
mistreatment - betrayed her nature: The intellectual whiz kid with brains where  
brawn was inappropriate. In comparison, the two made a sharp contrast. While  
the Ami seemed to be faring well, she was far from the most resilient of the  
Senshi, and was the first likely to crumble. Watching the fire and heart of the  
team, Rei and Mina, it was plain they had been hurt. Why she placed the two  
together did not occur until she noted that they spent more than coincidental  
amounts of time exchanging shamed and scared glances.  
  
'Rei... what is it?' Usagi's sudden question was sharp, and each of the four  
girls emitted a short gasp.  
  
'So sorry, Usagi-chan,' she apologized softly, not willing to elaborate, eyes  
downcast.  
  
'Mina?' Usagi prodded, turning to the most experienced Sailor Senshi.  
  
The golden blond felt herself wanting to flee, and that her eyes fled from  
Usagi's gaze. 'Rei and I, we... we...' she was trembling, forcing down her  
reaction. 'We were forced to...'  
  
The two shared a deep, telling look. Immediately she understood. They had had  
forced sexual relations. To what extent, she was not sure, and dared not ask,  
despite the black flaring hole of emotion in her gut.  
  
---  
  
"No!" she had whispered. "I won't..." Her words were shattered as a gasp and  
cry fled her throat. The heavily built being growled faintly, and shoved her  
angrily towards the already half-naked Rei.  
  
"Oh Goddess!" she had yelped, half at the pain, and also at the very concept  
that the slaver had presented her with.  
  
"Kiss 'er human," the being had snarled gutturally. "Don't you things like  
that?"  
  
"No," she whimpered. "No...! I..."  
  
"Minako...?" Rei rasped weakly as her wit reapplied itself to her reality. A  
cruel laugh met Minako's ears as claws scratched at her back idly, waiting, and  
hoping that it would get a chance to tear her limb from slender limb.  
  
'Arigato goziemashita Rei-chan!' she muttered desperately, slipping  
unconsciously into her native tongue.  
  
Slowly, two things occurred to her. For each she cursed herself, which did not  
forestall either. To begin, an odd fascination with the entire matter; for she  
had had such a dream, though Makoto was the focus, hentai though it may have  
been. Shameful and dishonourable, but she could not ignore it now. The second  
was a dull sense that Rei could have resisted much more that she had.  
  
Minako regarded herself as a highly chaste young woman. While she freely  
flirted with those she liked, if even in the slightest degree, she never  
engaged in sex, and had preserved her virginity. Despite that, she could feel  
the distinctions of kissing Rei, as opposed to the opposite sex. She refused to  
touch her, so that only their lips met, and parted anon. She glared up at the  
armoured creature of grey skin and vague features. Indistinctly, a grin met  
with that face, and indicated pleasure.  
  
"Go on," was the decree. "There's more. I've seen. I know."  
  
Minako's world shattered beautifully, the oscillating shards brilliantly  
displaying shades and colours, which would affect their friendship for  
eternity. She faced away from Rei as the tears came, hating herself with  
violent intensity.  
  
'Minako-chan,' Rei whispered, the shame Minako felt in her eyes.  
  
"C'mon human," the creature had cursed, pushing her again. With a gasp of  
surprise, she landed atop Rei. Minako immediately scrambled back, until Rei's  
hand touched her shoulder yieldingly. Minako relaxed somewhat.  
  
'We can escape,' Rei muttered at her ear, as if kissing her there. 'I met a  
woman who can free us.'  
  
'What? Rei? I...' and she laid her lips to Rei's again, lingering. 'But I...'  
  
'No. We can't die now,' she said. 'Not for this.'  
  
Gradually, the fascination returned, as if invited, and to an extent it was, as  
Minako regarded her friend in an awkward and shameful light.  
  
'Rei, I... I don't know if I can, um...' her eyes flicked over her friend.  
  
'What about Luna and Artemis?' Rei replied in hushed tones. Her resolve failed  
for an instant, long enough to betray her own feelings of guilt, as her eyes  
fell. A gauntleted fist struck the back of Minako's head, knocking her into Rei  
again, who groaned in pain.  
  
"Hey thin-freaks, just get on with it, will ya?" growled the voice of the  
guard. "I ain't got all day."  
  
Rei kissed Minako firmly, lacking restraint, hands grasping her shoulders.  
Minako felt an intense bout of panic, which subsided slowly as she realized  
that is was Rei acting as the aggressor. Somehow, that lifted the guilt  
enough... Gradually, she had returned the kiss, and begun to work her way down  
Rei's body.  
  
She heard an approving grunt behind her as she did.  
  
"I guess you're both gonna make good slaves anyway," the creature noted to  
itself. "Not bad for sticks anyway."  
  
Though Minako heard the words, it seemed that the fascination had too sharp a  
grip upon her to react. She paused for a good while before burying her face  
between Rei's thighs. Hate, rage, and greatest of all, embarrassment stole the  
remainder of the memory. For what was there left to recall? The interests of  
the guard had been sated after that, Rei having had - for all appearances -  
reached orgasm.  
  
---  
  
'I'm sorry... so sorry Rei-chan, Mina-chan,' Usagi muttered in reply. After  
several minutes of intimate silence, she spoke, drawing out the situation.  
'What will we do? Ami? Do you think we can make it back?'  
  
Ami flinched self-consciously. Realizing she was reasonably safe, she nodded,  
and retrieved her miniature computer. Opening the pink make-up case, she noted  
- as if to herself:  
  
'I've already done the calculations. If we can... well... um...' her ammunition  
was cut short. Her serene blue eyes descended into nsorrow. 'I don't know. We  
should be able to, if we can get a hold of the right materials, and maybeÉ  
Maybe some instructionsÉ uh, scrolls, I guess. I'm not sure.'  
  
Makoto piped up, 'But we can't use magic! We don't know how.'  
  
An emotionally darkened "hmm" selected one girl, then moved through each once,  
before dying in a faintly off-key chorus.  
  
'I'll try to learn,' Mina determined. 'As Sailor V I ran into a couple demons  
who used the stuff. Canceling their summoning spell was the only way I beat  
them.'  
  
They all handed her an amazed stare. She blushed, embarrassed.  
  
'Well... you never asked...' she replied with a weak chuckle.  
  
'I can help. My computer can read the wierd languages hereÉ"  
  
"Oh, heh! YeahÉ" Minako laughed faintly. 'UhÉ good plan."  
  
'So where do we start? Anyone know?'  
  
Each shook her head in turn as determined by Usagi's questioning gaze.  
  
'Usagi-chan,' Ami half-whispered, trembling eyes upon the owner of the name.  
'A-are we going to make it? I-I... I m-mean home.'  
  
By silence, she admitted uneasily her uncertainty. She got to her feet,  
expending energy she felt beyond her.  
  
'We have to try. JustÉ uhÉ I've got to... Um, I should tell Sivil we're going.'  
  
:No; she thought, :"ready" isn't the right word:  
  
Sivil said nothing, merely nodding when faced by Usagi. Proceeding through the  
hush and aphony of Atlantis' back alleys and tunnels, words became necessary  
only in caution, usually at the behest of Sivil.  
  
Usagi, for once, was paying attention, and noted that this woman's knowledge  
was great. What was it she had said? A slave of ten years? And not sold? She  
lacked the time to inquire, and wondered how much truth belonged to the words  
at any cost. Even at that of their lives.  
  
Atlantis was beautiful, flawless in appearance. The Splugorth did not seem to  
be concerned in the least of their phantasmagoria, the swatch of evil that  
permeated every structure of the formerly lost realm. They did not hide their  
deeds, the slave trading, the domination of races, the atrocities of their  
existence. The sky explained the method of the ideal dream, while below it was  
disregarded for carnal pleasures, and other inequities.  
  
Hades on water.  
  
"Hold up," Sivil whispered. "That's it, we're here."  
  
Usagi laid a hand upon the tunnel wall, panting dry heaves, while the others  
took to recovering their winds. Beyond the shadow of metal crate lay an endless  
expanse of water, and a gleaming, thrumming dock wrapped tightly to the edge of  
the city-island.  
  
"What?" Usagi half-muttered.  
  
Sivil turned to her sternly, eyes narrowed, brows knotted. "Hush! This is the  
crucial point. We need a little ship, a scow, or maybe a freighter. Something!"  
  
Her eyes sailed the opportune vessels, each the prodigy of modern technology.  
Unfortunately, every one of them was crawling with guards, Over and  
Power-Lords, among other Splugorth.  
  
:Fine; she determined, wrenching herself to the decision. :There's no other  
way:  
  
Face set with a dispassionate glare, she swiveled to Usagi.  
  
"I need you to head to that ship," she stated, indicating a crippled looking  
little freighter.  
  
Trepidation swam in Usagi. "But... Why Sivil-san?"  
  
'Don't question, just go. When you reach Japan, just look for a little shop  
called Conroy's Cybernetics. Give them this." She produced a tiny jade crystal,  
shoved it into Usagi's open palm and closed it with the other. She then stepped  
out of the tunnel, not looking back.  
  
"No, Sivil-san! You can't!"  
  
A serene expression declared itself, and was offered to Usagi in Sivil's face  
as she gazed backwards.  
  
"Trust me. I do this because I must. Goodbye! Take care of yourselves!"  
  
Usagi felt tears well as the young woman brought forth the pace of a run,  
heading directly for the required distraction.  
  
'Usagi,' Makoto urged, touching her shoulder. 'C'mon.'  
  
Lethargic, she agreed, feeling vaguely numbed.  
  
Gazing behind her, she thought:  
  
:I'm sorry Usagi. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to know you better. I'm sorry  
for what I have to do, but you'll later thank me:  
  
She swiftly placed herself in the blind spot of a five-foot tall being of stony  
skin, tail, claw, and asymmetrically armoured figure. The tripod of eyes failed  
to perceive her, while the unseen nose detected her scent. She buried her  
repulsion with the greater need; save the Senshi.  
  
'Hi-ha!' she snapped, taking an arm by the hand and flipping the inhuman weight  
over her stiffened shoulder. The creature grasped her with the fourth member of  
a quad of limbs as it flipped nimbly to land upon the pair of armored legs.  
Hauled in the reverse of the preferred direction by thin lengths of hair, she  
stumbled backwards, twisting to face it. The slender beast uttered a low  
whining growl, striking her with a clawed hand.  
  
She cried out as the fingers bit into rib and lung.  
  
'Sivil!' Usagi screamed desperately, stopping her flight for the freighter.  
  
'Usagi-chan no!' Makoto grabbed her shoulder, spurning her onwards, tossing her  
roughly behind the crates just within the door of the sea bound vessel.  
  
Another cry flew from the mouth of the doomed young woman while other Splugorth  
approached.  
  
"Escaped human slave! Kill it!"  
  
'Sivi...' her words were cut off by a swift motion drawing her face to the  
side, and causing a red welt to display upon her cheek. Makoto glared at her.  
  
'Don't! You'll attract their attention!' Anger inducing fear clenched Makoto's  
jaw and tensed the muscles of her face.  
  
Shocked, she sat down. 'Makoto...?'  
  
Looking on, amazed, the others saw the brawn of the Senshi made a harsh gesture  
for silence. The cacophony beyond the open loading doors fell away as Sivil's  
screams halted. The violence hardened brunette winced at the sickly  
pronouncement of death; an audible dissection of flesh and bone.  
  
'Oh... by the Goddess,' Usagi sobbed, burying her face in her hands, knees  
drawn to her seated body. Mute empathy held the team, and brought them to sit,  
hide and cower in the silver of hope provided by the death.  
  
Chronos visited, wandering the room with Silence, who explained Nothing, who  
agreed wholeheartedly with the other two. Silence found herself cut off by the  
introduction of Sound as a low, rumbling, strangely calming and quiet hum.  
Makoto stood, and began wandering the storage bay, searching for... well,  
anything. Preferably weapons. She returned in short order with blankets, a few  
packages of rations, and an odd looking pistol.  
  
'What do we do when the ship docks?' Ami asked hesitantly. Usagi looked  
surprised as she curled up in the yellow tinted cloth covering. The short blue  
haired girl usually had more answers than she did questions.  
  
'We get off,' Makoto supplied shortly. 'Then get away. The Splugorth won't  
catch us again. Anyone who gets in our way will have to deal with me.' She  
hefted the pistol.  
  
'I wouldn't use that unless someone attacks us first,' Rei observed quietly.  
'We don't even know what it does!'  
  
'I doubt that weapon is not powerful enough to kill,' Ami said in an  
uncharacteristically obvious statement. The other three nodded agreement as she  
bit into a portion of ration, then spat, grimacing.  
  
'Usagi?' Minako asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. 'You okay?'  
  
Usagi looked at Minako, a frightened distance in her eyes.  
  
'I... wish Sivil hadn't died,' she said. 'I wish Luna was here.'  
  
They had all been struck by the reality of that loss. Luna had not come through  
the portal with them. There was no telling the Phate of their home world now.  
It slowly occurred to Usagi that the world they might be on an Earth of the  
future.  
  
'It's possible,' Ami agreed. 'But, I don't know... I need more information  
about where we are... when we are - um, might be - is something entirely  
different...' she fell silent.  
  
'Ami-chan, it's all right. You're doing the best you can,' Usagi offered  
consolingly.  
  
The youngest of the five nodded weakly, trembling slightly.  
  
The rest of the trip had given way to Sound as moving water, and the  
uncomfortable realization of uncertainty of the future. They had docked some  
hours later. Makoto woke everyone, aside from Usagi, who had been too scared to  
sleep.  
  
'You going to be alright?' Minako had asked as they had prepared to leave. Her  
pale orange cat suit accented her trim figure as she moved gracefully toward  
Usagi.  
  
Usagi nodded, not sure of the truth of it.  
  
'Let's go,' she distracted. 'We'd better do this before it's too late.' :Or  
before I give in to fear:  
  
Makoto formed the head of the line, with Ami behind her, Usagi in the middle,  
for the protection, following back to Minako, and Rei at the end. They followed  
a line of crates off the ship, and after some time, managed to reach the dock  
were they could see a town at the edge. Freedom had never seemed closer since  
their arrival here!  
  
"Halt!" A tall white-faced overlord bellowed deeply from a deck aboard the  
ship.  
  
Makoto turned, rage afire within her, and realizing a perfect outlet.  
  
"Not a chance buster!" she snarled. Without hesitation, she raised the pistol  
and pointed it at the OverLord.  
  
"Seize them!" The OverLord did not appear to be terribly troubled by Makoto's  
weapon, or where it was aimed. A half dozen blind warrior women, on the other  
hand, seemed quite concerned. So concerned, in fact, that they rushed the five  
girls simultaneously.  
  
"Transform...!" Usagi commanded with little conviction. Without Luna, Usagi had  
realized there was no one but her to give the orders. Her first thought was of  
their senshi powers. She was not sure if their transformation pens would work -  
especially in the light of past evidence - but the chance for freedom was so  
clear.  
  
One by one, each respective Sailor Senshi replaced the five human girls. There  
was a discrepancy that Usagi noted with ill ease. Each uniform had appeared,  
but without the usual transformation energies. Due to the speedy approach of  
the blind women, Usagi did not have the time to ponder the matter. She was just  
barely able to dodge a blast from a weapon much like Makoto's.  
  
Ami was the first to attempt the utilization of her powers.  
  
"Shabon Spray!" she called in English, crossing her arms in front of her, then  
pushing the bubbles forth as they appeared in one motion. The bubbles  
dispersed, creating a heavy fog. The women did not stop, nor did they even  
slow, uninhibited by the normally visually inhibiting attack. With a gasp, Ami  
realized that her power was completely ineffective against the sightless women.  
  
Usagi called out a rapid succession of orders, mainly of attack and retreat. As  
the battle ensued, it appeared that they were winning. Two of the six blind  
warrior women remained standing. Only Ami and Rei and fallen on their side.  
Usagi shouted for Jupiter to grab Mercury, and Venus to grab Mars, they were  
going to retreat.  
  
A shot came out of the blue and hit Usagi in the upper arm, near her shoulder.  
A brilliant flash of pain burned, Usagi cried out in agony. Minako screamed,  
'your arm!'  
  
As the pain ebbed, Usagi realized she had lost all the feeling in her left arm.  
Looking for her left arm, she found with a gut wrenching shock that it was not  
where it was supposed to be. There was a great, dark looking burn from which  
the pain still stemmed. A blackness wrapped itself around Usagi's mind.  
  
---  
  
The face of a violently weathered young woman flicked into existence before his  
wearied eyes. She squinted for a moment, then straightened her back and winced  
as she squared her shoulders. Her hair was matted with grease and dirt, her  
face a mesh of bruises, scars, and fresh lacerations.  
  
"Date: 35853.6. Sergeant Silver, this phase of the mission has succeeded  
without error. The collective emotional state of the Sailor Soldiers -" she  
paused to nod to something off screen "- is fearful, uncertain, and hopeful.  
Their experience conforms to the specifications provided. We have remained here  
for twenty-four hours, and are about to proceed. With any luck, I will return  
alive. If not, I pray to die with honor to the service."  
  
She signed off with a customary salute before the image departed to the null of  
cyberspace.  
  
"Lt. Nira was later slain in the escape, though the Sailor Soldiers were able  
to stow away aboard a cargo vessel bound for Japan," the icy tones of a  
screen-bound plain-faced young woman elaborated.  
  
He bowed his head and breathed a shallow sigh.  
  
"Location?"  
  
"Currently unknown. It is assumed that the Soldiers landed safely in Japan."  
  
"Never assume anything," he stated, adamant. "Send a scout team to investigate  
the matter. Immediately."  
  
"Yes sir," the woman represented in the screen bowed her head slightly. "Will  
there be anything else?"  
  
"Yes. Notify our global contacts. We cannot afford to waste time." 


	3. Life wanted, Life taken

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 2: Life wanted, Life taken  
  
She could no longer recall how long she had been running. A glance  
backwards told her that pursuit had dropped off. Exhausted, she  
dropped her knees, her mind a blur. She struggled against her fatigue  
even as the resurgence of pain brought her mind to a warm vertigo.  
  
:Who am I running from?: Recollection failed, she was having a hard  
time thinking straight. Two days of running had not helped. Hunger  
drew her consciousness to a focus again, as it had done several times  
over the last forty-eight hours. Dully she remembered. She was running  
from a strange man in black armor. He had called himself 'Cage.'  
  
:Not terribly inventive; she noted internally.  
  
He had proclaimed that he wanted to protect her. His obvious efforts  
at capture had not exactly inspired the young girl's confidence. She  
glanced down at her torn outfit. Transforming to Sailor Mercury had  
not helped, much. She had been able to use her Shabon Spray to confuse  
them for her escape. She shook her head weakly, it had not helped at  
all. They seemed to be able to follow her anywhere. This strange  
environment had displayed more advanced technology than she thought  
could have existed. Even if she had her computer, she doubted it would  
have proved to be of any assistance.  
  
:Well; she thought, :I am not without my resources. I've made it this  
far, haven't I?:  
  
The effectiveness of the thought ceased.  
  
:Why? With Usagi and others gone, what good is it to run?:  
  
Of that she was not yet sure. From what she could ascertain, this was  
Earth. She determined that she was no longer in Japan. Somehow the  
explosion had resulted in a teleportation of some kind. The thought  
that she might teleport back to where she came fell strictly to  
chance. First of all, she had no idea where she was, and secondly,  
none further of where she was going. Beyond even this, she knew  
herself to be lacking the necessary strength for such an action. So if  
it was random teleportation, as they had not arrived together at the  
terminating point of the transport, which meant the others could be  
six ways from the moon. There was no way of telling where they were.  
With a dull gaze, she looked about, trying to figure out where her  
feet had taken her. She felt a stale warm breeze wash over her, making  
her feel nauseous, and adding an undesired soporific effect to an  
already depressing day. She was at the edge of both hope, and what  
seemed to be a very poor, and rather dismal looking village.  
  
She staggered as she stood, her senshi enhanced strength waned under  
her human weakness. As she walked, her mind wandered listlessly over  
the past several days of her life. Even though she tried to forget  
Atlantis, she could not help but dwell on it. What was it? Maybe there  
was something she was missing that could help her? Perhaps it was just  
a morbid fascination with the former legend, and the pain it had  
brought to her life.  
  
She had always thought the world of Atlantis to be one of greater  
enlightenment, and advanced knowledge. As a part time bibliophile, she  
was always searching for more knowledge. It was from that search she  
had gained a romanticized view of the legendary Atlantis. That hope  
had been brutally dashed when she had learned of the true nature of  
the inhabitants of the archaic continent. They had turned out to be a  
race of slavers. Well, perhaps a single "race" was an inaccurate word.  
She knew they were called "Splugorth," but it did not seem to have to  
do with their appearance or genetic structure. Ami was sure there was  
one intelligence behind the Splugorth, with the rest of the operatives  
being obedient races, and those perhaps with a debt to their  
servitors, or whatever the case.  
  
She shook her head again, trying to keep awake. Hunger was no longer  
staying her fatigue. She entered the town at a pace that resembled a  
crawl, finding it difficult to muster energy for a more substantial  
effort. Nearby people noticed her, but kept their distance, as if  
unsure of her existence. Many regarded her as some kind of illusion,  
then turned away to continue on with their lives. Others appeared to  
be concerned, but lacked the nerve to approach the haggard looking  
young woman. In return, she merely ignored them, or at least tried to.  
After the resulting submission, and violence of Atlantis, somehow she  
was not compelled to plead for assistance, even though she was sure  
she would die without it.  
  
Another woman, however, seemed to lack the fear of those about her.  
She was a sharply dressed contrast to the poor look of the inhabitants  
of the town, which swarmed about her as she approached Ami. It seemed  
obvious to her that the woman was an outsider, a traveler of some  
sort. She certainly did not live in this god-awful town.  
  
In one slender, soft hand, she held a canteen, the other a rather  
tempting slab of cheese. Ami just stood for several minutes, staring  
at the food as if it was entirely alien to her. She reached towards  
it, and hesitated, gazing at the woman who offered it to her.  
  
'Gomen nasai, wakarimasen,' Mercury muttered faintly. So sorry, I  
don't understand.  
  
'Nihon go ga hanase-masen,' the woman replied softly; I don't speak  
Japanese. :But I do want to save your life. Too bad I can't tell you  
that outright...: "Mizu, um... water. I've got water, and food. Dozo.  
Please, eat."  
  
'Ah, so desu.' With a deft nod, and a weak 'Hai' the food disappeared,  
and Ami attacked it ravenously.  
  
'Namu ka Allison,' she said with a slight gasp. "Do you speak... uh...  
English? Wakarimasu ka? English?" she gestured to her mouth as she  
spoke, hoping to get the point across.  
  
With a vague grin, she nodded. "Yes. I think you'll find that my  
spoken English is exemplary."  
  
"Cripes. Then why didn't you just..." she glanced down for a moment,  
then sighed. "Oh."  
  
"Right."  
  
"You haven't eaten in while, I guess. What's your name?"  
  
"Two days," she muttered with a heavy Japanese accent between bites.  
"Ami."  
  
Allison looked shocked. Her eyes traveled down Ami's bruise marked,  
and ill-clothed frame. Then her face set in a concentrated look as she  
slipped off her knapsack, opened it, and began searching through it.  
After several seconds of rummaging, she pulled out a dark blue robe.  
She handed it to Ami. Having finished the cheese, and water, Ami just  
watched the woman like a wild animal; wary, and uncertain. Again, she  
was hesitant.  
  
There was a clearly questioning expression on her face as Allison  
offered the robe. With an affirmative nod, she watched Ami put it on.  
The care with which she donned the covering betrayed her refined  
nature. She slipped the heavy hood over her short blue haired head.  
Noticing her gaze, she did not smile. She just bowed stiffly and  
turned away slowly.  
  
"Where will you go?" Allison asked boldly.  
  
The young woman paused, and turned back.  
  
"Why do you care?"  
  
"I don't have to," she replied. "If you don't want the help I'm  
willing to offer, then you can just keep on walking. I won't bother  
you again."  
  
Ami considered this. It was possible that Allison had ulterior  
motives, she found that she almost could not think to care. Her vision  
swam before her.  
  
"Uh-unnn," she murmured, taking two shaky steps, then fell into her  
arms, unconscious.  
  
---  
  
"Ami?"  
  
The voice was not much more than a whisper. She realized dully that  
she had fainted. Warmth blurred vividly in her mind. She opened her  
eyes. The sun was up, and she shut her eyes quickly as the light of it  
blinded her. She uttered out slightly at the attack.  
  
"Oh good, you're awake! You've been out for a while. Almost two days,"  
Allison helpfully supplied. Ami opened her eyes slowly, dark  
afterimages dancing in her vision. She blinked, unsuccessfully trying  
to get rid of them.  
  
"Are you hungry?" she asked as Ami glanced at her, and at their  
surroundings. They were in a poorly built, and lit, bedroom. The walls  
were composed of loosely placed panels of wood. The bed consisted of  
straw, and she felt her back cry out in agony in testimony to the  
stiffness of it. Ami's mind balked; sun? A makeshift hole in the roof  
had been covered with some kind of transparent material. It looked as  
though the hole had resulted from a fall, or battle of some sort,  
rather than by the plans of the individual who constructed this place.  
  
"Yes," Ami nodded slightly, eager to sate her hunger. Allison produced  
a large piece of cheese, and several other items, which she quickly  
pieced together to form a sandwich. Ami was starved beyond the point  
of pickiness. She admitted to herself, however, that she had not eaten  
this well in some time.  
  
Allison could only watch as this plainly wan girl polished off her  
sandwich in not much more than a dozen bites. Allison put together  
another, hoping to sate her appetite. It was evident to Allison that  
this girl had been taken for slavery. She bore the marks of a slave;  
her back scarred, her wrists and ankles raw. Also, the two long claw  
scars on her face. Fairly recent, she surmised. Ami's health was in  
such a state that she was not likely to retaliate. Allison knew that  
included her mental health, as well. Her feet had been bleeding when  
she had tended them. More importantly, she bore the marks of an  
Atlantean slave. Allison had flushed a symbiotic organism from Ami's  
system.  
  
:Thank heavens for Shi-Con tech; she thought.  
  
Allison observed her finish off a third sandwich, and her second glass  
of ale. Finally, she felt she could inquire of her.  
  
"Who are you? How did you escape from Atlantis?"  
  
That clearly caught her attention; she paused eating. She swallowed,  
then spoke.  
  
"I am Ami Mizuno. I was helped by one who claimed to be my friend."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Nothing. We escaped." Her tone was measured, her eyes narrowed  
slightly, full of distrust.  
  
"Then why are you alone? Where are your friends?"  
  
"Friends? Did I say anything about friends?"  
  
She was lying, and Allison was aware of it. Allison pursued the strain  
of fiction, however.  
  
"The one who helped you escape."  
  
Ami studied her for a time. :She is no fool; she thought.  
  
"She was killed."  
  
Allison merely nodded. That part was true enough; Lt. Nira had been a  
somewhat distant friend. Despite the remainder of dishonesty, she was  
sympathetic of Ami's distrust. She had no valid reason to place any  
faith in this unfamiliar woman.  
  
:Well, that's something I intend to earn; Allison decided.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
Ami regarded the inquiry like the promise of a politician; with the  
expectancy of treachery.  
  
"Better," she replied. "Thank you." A moment of silence was the  
intervening point between that, and her next words:  
  
"So what do you know that you haven't told me?"  
  
Allison was not sure how to reply. She knew that the lie had buried a  
hatchet of one kind, and to remove it, she only had to tell the  
truth... but one question remained; would Ami believe her?  
  
"What would you say if I were to tell you I was responsible for your  
freedom?" Allison ventured dangerously.  
  
"You going to prove it?" Ami asked, seemingly unfazed by the notion.  
  
"I can. You think you can manage a short walk?"  
  
She sat up sluggishly, and then swung her feet over the edge of the  
bed. She leaned forward, abruptly, gagging. Allison startled, getting  
to her feet rapidly. She put a hand on the young woman's shoulder.  
Finally, Ami stopped, and looked up at her.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
Ami glanced up at her and nodded deftly.  
  
"I guess I ate a little quickly. I'll be fine."  
  
---  
  
A few minutes later they exited the inn. Allison was sure the  
innkeeper did not mind the two gold piece tip she had left him, next  
to the five silver for the room. Quite a bit for such a shack, though  
it was apparent that she was little concerned about the money. They  
were moving as quickly as Ami's somewhat ragged pace would allow.  
  
"So where are we going?" Ami asked.  
  
"I've got a hovercraft hidden just outside of town," she explained.  
""That will get us where we're going."  
  
"A hovercraft?"  
  
"Yeah," a deep voice started behind her. "One 'o those things ya crash  
in, y'know? Kinda like this!"  
  
Just as they turned towards the voice, a fist descended, smacking  
soundly against the back of Ami's head. Ami gasped, and Allison cried  
out, grabbing for an amulet around her neck. Allison's slender form  
was abruptly replaced, in a brilliant flash, by a dark blue  
exoskeleton armor, with great silver avian like wings. Reaching for  
the blue scabbard mounted on her left hip, she pulled forth a heavy  
broadsword. Ami stumbled forward, completely enveloped in shock,  
trying to remain conscious.  
  
The power armored Allison struck at Ami's assailant, aiming to kill.  
The seven-foot tall cyborg raised his claymore and turned to parry  
Allison's strike. They met evenly, snarling at each other as they  
struggled to determine the greater strength. The cyborg grinned, and  
raised what looked like a remote above his head. The one finger not  
gripping it was used to point something... up?  
  
She cursed loudly as a hovering tank descended upon them, it's great  
cannon and accompanying rail guns making everything crystal clear.  
  
'Yeah, som'ow I figgered y' might sees it m'way,' the cyborg stated,  
his ugly grin retaining its unpleasant presence. Angrily, Allison  
raised her hands, dropping the broadsword.  
  
Ami faced the 'borg fearfully, as she would death. Death almost seemed  
like a pleasant option at this point, but somehow, she did not feel  
the need to explore it. The cyborg hit her, knocking her the ground.  
Already dazed, she felt her conscious nigh slip completely as crimson  
flashed in her eyes.  
  
"Damn. I'd really luv ta kill ya, but a job's a job," the voice  
growled, sound cruelly pleased. As the metal foot fell, Ami felt her  
hip snap and crack into hundreds of shards as agony brought her mind  
to full awareness. Another scream tore loose from her throat. The foot  
came down again, causing her senses to reel in a fury of pain as her  
leg ripped free from her body.  
  
"You bastard! You inhuman...!"  
  
"Now, now," snarled the cyborg, leveling his arm cannon at Allison,  
three inches from her suddenly sweating face. "Let's be all  
civil-like. I don't gotta kill ya, but if yer gonna get all nasty..."  
  
Allison cursed under her breath, watching the hatch of the tank open,  
and a heavily armored man appear from its depths. On a hope, Allison  
extended the vibro blades concealed in the armlets of the armor, and  
moved as if to attack, striking the arm cannon aside easily.  
  
"Hey there you," snapped the voice from the hovertank. "Don' you be  
getting' no ideas! See, don' think I cain' control dis heap...'  
  
In a clear demonstration, he lifted his thick, armor plated arms above  
his head as the huge cannon oriented upon her.  
  
'Lo', no han's!" he laughed. "So Perry, we's goin' er what?'  
  
'Yeah sure,' replied the cyborg. "Ya don' mind, do ya? Naw? I dun'  
thunk it..."  
  
Allison felt something smack sharply against the back of her head,  
then, only a dark veil. 


	4. Blue Hair, Grey Matter... About

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 3: Blue Hair, Grey Matter... About  
  
She awoke to find herself in a great deal of pain.  
  
"Ah, good morning, how are you?"  
  
She sat up, looked around, and ran a hand through her short blue hair.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"You're quite lucky to be alive," the voice stated coldly.  
  
:Where is the voice coming from?: She could see no one around.  
  
"Lucky?"  
  
There was a sigh. "Take a moment to gather your wits, you've been  
through quite the ordeal."  
  
:Where am I?: She paused, gazing at the smooth white walls of the  
room. There did not appear to be any way out, no discernible door.  
:What have I been doing that might have brought me here?:  
  
"Who am I?"  
  
Another sigh; "We were rather hoping you could tell us that."" A  
pause. "I suppose we'll have to start from the brick at the bottom.  
First of all honey, you're not human."  
  
"I'm not?"  
  
"At least you understand that, that's a good sign. Lateral thinking.  
Problem is, we don't know what you are exactly. Aside from what we  
could tell from the cybernetics you've had in."  
  
:Cybernetics?; she thought, getting slowly to her feet, :why do I know  
that word?:  
  
"What do you suppose about that now?"  
  
She began to recognize stiffness in her leg, in the left side of  
her... face. Without thinking, she touched her left cheek, then her  
right. She felt less pressure on her left cheek. She pressed harder on  
the one, then the other. Same result.  
  
"Yes, it might feel odd. That would be because most of the left side  
of your face is synthetic."  
  
"What's synthetic?" Her hand fell away from her face.  
  
"Fake. Synthetic is man made material, like plastic."  
  
"Plastic!" She stumbled backwards, falling against the smooth wall.  
  
"Calm down honey," the voice said flatly. "Do you have a name?"  
  
She heard a mumbling as she scrambled up against the unyielding  
whiteness of the wall. Trembling, she fought against the thoughts of  
not being real.  
  
"Dammit," the voice cursed. "The first thing she does after coming to,  
is freak out. Doctor Lambert, we need you to sedate our blue haired  
girl here," the voice observed in tones indicating minimal alarm.  
  
She did not hear these words as they were spoken. Nor did she hear the  
entrance of the cyber doc, as he approached her, needle in hand.  
  
He spoke in whining tones; "Calm down, this will make you feel all  
better now."  
  
He reached for her, taking the upper portion of her left arm with one  
hand. Something snapped, a frantic look passed over her face, like the  
sudden flash of summer lightning. She stuck at him with her right arm,  
a blind action, and her hand hit the doctor in the face, which cracked  
open like a ripe melon. She screamed, and crumbled into a crying heap  
as the body made a pool of crimson upon the consistently white floor.  
  
"Cage! Get in here! Handle your flipping SDB will you!?" the voice  
growled, no longer sounding quite so calm.  
  
Two Dead Boys in heavy armor entered the room without hesitation. One  
of them uttered a curse. The second, however, sounded as though he was  
smiling when his dark voice left his throat.  
  
"Rather more'n I thought," he noted as he reached over and grabbed her  
by the neck, lifting her to her feet. She struggled and choked, but  
did not seem to be aware of his words, nor the pain he was inflicting.  
"Not that I mind."  
  
"Glad you're enjoying yourself. Will you just get on with it and put  
her out?" the voice snarled in controlled tones.  
  
He glared upwards.  
  
"Fine. I guess we'll just have to get it all the hard way."  
  
---  
  
The next morning brought bright light, in multiple sources. It felt  
like a hospital; the cold air on her skin, the white ceiling, the  
unemotional voices...  
  
"She's coming around..."  
  
"Good, just make sure you keep those sedatives pumping. That way we  
won't have any more messes like the last doc who attempted to  
administer."  
  
"Right."  
  
The world spun, dazzling in its brightness. It felt like the most she  
could do to raise her finger.  
  
"No, no, don't try to move, you've been hurt."  
  
:Hurt? I don't feel hurt. I feel violated:  
  
"Wh-whu..." her mouth refused to form the words she wanted. Any words  
at all. The blur of white and blue hovering over her refused to leave.  
Not that it mattered.  
  
:Why doesn't it matter?:  
  
It came back to her in chunks, in fragments.  
  
:Messy doctor?:  
  
Hai, she had killed the doctor when he...  
  
:Killed?:  
  
... tried to inject her with something.  
  
:Killed? I caused someone to die?:  
  
Then the men in black suits had come.  
  
:Good. I'm glad he's dead. Jerk:  
  
They wanted to know why...  
  
:I killed one of them too. They shouldn't mess with me. They don't...:  
  
They wanted her to come quietly with them.  
  
:They don't know what they're dealing with.:  
  
Who is she?  
  
:Night. I saw the darkness outside. I miss it:  
  
Sarah Feldman had tried to get into her mind. Tried to reach into the  
sealed depths. She succeeded.  
  
"You were a Sailor?"  
  
:...Long walking nights in the cool moonlight...:  
  
"Not really. A Sailor Senshi. They are very different."  
  
"So you were a 'Sailor Senshi'. Would you mind telling me what that  
is?"  
  
:...Jumping so high I could ascend two story complexes...:  
  
"It's a warrior. A protector. We fought the NegaVerse. We fought the  
creatures of the NegaVerse; Jedite, Malachite, Zoisite, Neflite..."  
  
"Do you know that those are stones?"  
  
:... Fighting for all I was...:  
  
"Yes. The names are stones. The warriors we fought were not."  
  
"Who are 'we'?"  
  
:... 'was'?...:  
  
"The Bishojo Sailor Senshi. Pretty Sailor Solders of the Moon. Sailor  
Moon, Sailor Mercury, which was me, Sailor Mars, Sailor Jupiter, and  
Sailor Venus."  
  
"Do you know that those names are the names of celestial bodies?"  
  
:... I fought. That's who I was. I killed the enemy...:  
  
"Yes. But the Sailor Senshi were human."  
  
"You speak as if you are no longer a part of that group."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"But you are Mizuno Ami, from Tokyo."  
  
:...Who was I?...:  
  
"No."  
  
Sarah adopted the complexion of a fleshless corpse some two centuries  
old.  
  
"She is dead."  
  
They had been foolish enough to think that the sedative was strong  
enough to hold her back. Foolish enough to leave her alone with the  
D-Bee.  
  
:It doesn't matter who I was. They don't know who they're messing  
with:  
  
Sarah's screams were not heard through the sound proof walls, nor by  
the sleeping surveillance officer. By the time the cameras had alerted  
security, it was by then far too late.  
  
Who is this psychotic woman to murder a therapist?  
  
:She is Sarah Night:  
  
Reality flew by in blurs of consciousness. Snippets of awareness, some  
violent, some crimson coated, others totally awash with pain. Each  
time the same, or similar questions.  
  
- Who are you? -  
  
:I don't:  
  
(want to tell you)  
  
:know. Who I am now isn't who I was:  
  
- Why? Who are you now? -  
  
:I told you already:  
  
- Why are you here? -  
  
:Shut the hell up:  
  
Blur of an already bloody glove. Pain snapped in her face.  
  
- That's no way to talk to your saviors. Without us, you would be  
dead, D-bee. Where are your friends. -  
  
:What friends?:  
  
Then the surgery. Sometimes they would beat her up, sedate her, then  
take her to be operated on. Other times she would just wake up in the  
room, lights shining down on her, blurring her vision, pain fogging  
her senses, blood staining her reality. She continued to fight against  
them, hold what information she still held within her, no matter how  
hard they hit, or how deep they dove with their scalpels. Even then  
they took her arm, she held firm. Through the many days of tears,  
through the seemingly eternal pain.  
  
They hoped to fetch knowledge from her DNA. Why not just take a blood  
sample? They had. It seemed to them it would be curious to gauge how  
the 'subject' reacted if they removed an entire limb. She reacted, to  
be sure. So much so that even their strongest sedatives, on single  
dosages (all of them), only managed to keep her from breaking down the  
door. They could not stop her from breaking her bonds. At least, until  
they used superhuman restraint materials.  
  
Some of the genetic technologists found it humorous to count the  
length of hours for which she shed tears, in a row. Others thought it  
interesting to count the hours she had not slept. A small number were  
actually sickened by the inhumane tortures, and prayed for her soul. 


	5. The Folly of Great Power and High Morals

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 4: The Folly of Great Power and High Morals  
  
Unable to ignore the obvious need to avoid the blade threatening her,  
the brown haired warrior ducked. The iridescent broadsword in her  
hands came down to disarm her opponent.  
  
"Now," she started, "are you willing to leave, or must I repeat my  
demonstration here with the both of you?" A convincing snarl hung on  
her lip.  
  
The three exchanged yellow pupil glances, and decided that this  
village was not worth the effort.  
  
"N-no," the tallest stammered, "we'll go."  
  
She said nothing, making a gesture with her transparent blade. The  
gesture told them to leave, and that if they were to ever return, she  
would kill them. They scrambled away, giving no hint of rebellion in  
their retreat. She let the psi-sword disappear into the nothingness  
from which it had come.  
  
A small group of cheering towns-people approached the tall woman, as  
she merely regarded them, apparently indifferent.  
  
"Savior!" one of them said, the self-evident elder of the small  
village.  
  
"This once," she noted evenly, almost in reflection. "There will be  
others."  
  
"Feh," the old man quipped, "what does it matter with the likes of  
your kind about? I prefer you knights to the technocrats of the  
Coalition and the D-bees any day."  
  
She seemed to study him for a moment, and his confidence froze in  
mid-motion. He tried to dislodge the wedge by asking a question of the  
valiant stranger.  
  
"Have you a name there?"  
  
She remained silent for a moment, but said, as if adding to an  
unspoken thought; "I am known as Sliver."  
  
He paled.  
  
"The Sliver, in our humble town! Why are you not off fighting the  
Coalition now? This town means nothing," he muttered, "not a'one'll  
miss us."  
  
She regarded him with sudden warmth that set him at ease.  
  
"I go were I am needed. To defend the good people from evil is my  
life." Her gaze hardened again. "There is always another waiting.  
Always."  
  
"Well, you've done enough for one day, my dear," the old man slapped  
her shoulder heartily, and in good humor. "Come. We've not much here,  
but the food is fresh, and hot. You shall have some rest after that.  
You look as though your search has only begun."  
  
Her gaze, having drifted into the crowd of people who watched the  
conversation, seeming too scared to move any closer to the legend at  
hand, snapped back to him. It was steady, probing, curious. She began  
to wonder how much he really knew.  
  
The old fellow merely smiled.  
  
---  
  
The hut he accompanied her to was small, and looked well kept. The  
crowd that had gathered about them earlier seemed to disperse, leaving  
them alone by the time they reached their destination. Dinner, it  
seemed, had already been prepared. It consisted of steaming spice  
soup, cheese, bread, and a variant of barley beer.  
  
"So what part of your search brings you to Quebec?" the old man asked,  
cutting a few pieces of cheese with a small knife.  
  
Sliver watched him carefully, as she had since he dropped what she  
suspected to be a hint about her origin.  
  
He shrugged.  
  
"We are all searching. Where that search brings us depends on where we  
care to go. How willing we are to follow it." He sipped a bit of his  
soup. She shook her head, unable to accept that generalization.  
  
"Tell me what you know of the young D-Bee women rumored to have  
escaped from Atlantis."  
  
His face set dubiously.  
  
"I haven't heard much," he said, putting his spoon down. "Why would  
you care anyway?"  
  
She leaned forward and snarled, "Just answer the question."  
  
He startled, and nodded eagerly, clearly intimidated.  
  
"W-well, it's like I said. This place is pretty quiet. All I heard is  
about th' girls, and that the Coalition wants them. We're so far from  
the coast... it takes months for us to hear anything from so  
distant..."  
  
Neither of them were eating; both were far too tense.  
  
She measured him again with her eyes, attempting to perceive any  
knowledge he might be hiding. As some moments passed, she decided to  
risk a psychic probe. Reaching forth with her mind, she felt some  
measure of apprehension within him. He did not react.  
  
"You're nervous about something, what is it?"  
  
He merely gazed at her. At first she thought it was his fear holding  
his eyes on her, then she realized that he was looking above her.  
  
She dropped to the floor and rolled away. As she did, she heard the  
easy smashing of wood. Getting to her feet and turning around, she  
noticed the splintered chair she had been sitting in. The voice behind  
the black skull motif helmet cursed and approached her. She snarled  
and leapt at him, catching him by the throat and knocking him to the  
floor. She clenched her fist, and three slim blades extended outward  
from the back of her hand.  
  
"You won't kill me," the baritone said, still defiant. "You're just a  
cyber-nut."  
  
"Maybe so," she agreed. "But you're just a squishy."  
  
She then pulled back, and decked him, leaving an impressive dent in  
his helmet. In one motion, she turned and stood up from the  
unconscious form, and froze. The old man gazed at her, straining  
against the neck hold of the second grunt, watching the energy pistol  
held to his head.  
  
"Sliver I..." he coughed as the grunt tightened his grip.  
  
"You'll co-operate, or the old man dies," he threatened.  
  
"Not a chance, creep," she glared at the grunt, speaking in angry  
undertones. "Supreme Thunder!"  
  
A white bolt struck the man, knocking him over and causing him to  
release his grip on the older man's throat.  
  
With a violent cough, the elder called out; "Sliver, run!"  
  
She did that, before she had time to second guess herself. As it  
turned out, as she bolted out of the door, the Coalition had expected  
the possibility of her running. She was deafened by the sound of a  
sonic boom as a vicious explosion vaporized the front door and most of  
the adjoining wall, and also threw her aside. Scrambling to her feet  
with a dull ringing in her ears, she had barely enough time to notice  
what had fired at her before it took another shot. She recognized the  
laser resistant glint of the power armor immediately.  
  
Just as the thought surfaced in her mind, Sliver was caught by the  
second Power Armour's attempt at subduing its target. She screamed,  
thrown backward by the force of the rail gun blast. Her chance for  
action arose. Allowing herself a moment to drop into place psychic  
pain barriers, she determined her course of action. Not a difficult  
choice:  
  
Get the heck away from that Glitter Boy!  
  
Swift to her feet, she turned, and sought nearest exit, if one  
existed. A curse rose to her lips. No such luck, the Coalition had  
anticipated that tact, apparently. She turned again, and ran at the  
ten foot tall glittering Power Armour. The man inside the armor gave  
with a gasp as the half-ton of armor fell over with the impact of this  
comparatively small humanoid woman.  
  
"Halt!" A voice demanded coldly. "Or there will be more corpses like  
this one around here."  
  
The charred remnants of the old man landed at her feet, smoking, and  
smelling of freshly warmed death. She said nothing, replying as much  
cold hatred her face would allow.  
  
"Bloody bitch," a voice cursed from within the glitter armour. "Here,  
have some back!"  
  
She felt a dull thud as something knocked her the cool earth. Then she  
remembered nothing.  
  
---  
  
She awoke with a groan. Silence greeted her as she glanced about the  
white walled room. There were no windows, which did not surprise her.  
What did, however, was the apparent lack of any door.  
  
Getting up, she felt a wash of pain move down from the back of her  
head to her neck. Strangely enough, they had not bothered to bind her.  
On that mental note, she realized that she was not clothed! The only  
article of clothing she seemed to be wearing was a metal collar, and a  
loincloth.  
  
Horrified, she sat down with her knees drawn to her chest.  
  
"Getting comfortable, are we?" came a voice in clearly mocking tones.  
  
She said nothing, looking around for the source.  
  
"Good. You're going to be here for some time."  
  
"Where am I?" she demanded.  
  
"Supposing I told you, what would you do with that information? No, I  
don't think so. You'll know what we want you to know, and answer the  
questions we ask of you."  
  
"Bloody hell I will!" she retorted angrily.  
  
"No? Well, you might not agree immediately, but given time, and a  
little persuasion, I'm sure you'll become all too agreeable."  
  
"Not a chance, buster!" she stood, anger pushing aside her modesty as  
she got to her feet. "I'll die before I..."  
  
"Perhaps later." A scruntizing pause. "My my, you are a pretty thing,  
aren't you? I really had no idea..."  
  
Clenching her fists, the six vibro blades failed to extend. She looked  
at the back of her hands. Steel plates had been affixed to her hands  
via small slips of synthetic material wrapped around the palms.  
  
"The cat gets de-clawed," the voice laughed. "Little good they would  
do you anyway. You're ours now."  
  
She bowed her head and started to mutter something under her breath.  
  
"Magic? We took that as well," the voice continued. "Along with your  
psychic powers."  
  
"Everything?" she asked, a slight smile spreading on her face.  
  
"Good to hear you're starting to see things our way."  
  
"You might say that," she said as she walked towards one of the walls.  
She raised as fist and put it through the wall in one violent motion.  
  
The voice cursed its error.  
  
Makoto began pulling out sections of the wall. It seemed as though the  
wall had been built next to a... sewer? She was underground! She  
punched the black piping. It gave a little, and also hurt a bit. She  
clenched her fists together, and hit it again. The pipe gave  
completely and her hands sank in. She reached into the hole and began  
widening it. Just as the opening started to become large enough for  
her to fit into, she heard a hiss. Turning, she saw a square section  
of the wall opposite her open.  
  
"Holy shi..." a voice gasped.  
  
"Halt!" augmented tones demanded.  
  
Makoto cursed. She had just enough time to duck the first blast as it  
struck the opening she had been prying at. Glancing at it as she  
scrambled to her feet, she noticed that the rest of her work had been  
finished for her. She jumped into the opening, and fled.  
  
The inside of the sewers turned out to be just as bright as the  
outside of the piping. It was damp, cold, and she was shivering. Her  
awareness of that brought her to think ahead.  
  
:Where will I go? I can't go above ground like this!:  
  
Emotions welled inside her as her feet carried her onwards.  
  
"Hey you!" A deep voice called. "Stop!"  
  
A backward glance told her that she was no longer alone. They had  
caught up to her. At the speed they were running, she had time to -  
maybe - find a place to hide, but no more than that.  
  
Lights flashed ahead of her.  
  
"Halt, you!"  
  
She stopped, eyes darting, furious.  
  
"Hey!" a rustic voice said quietly. So quietly that it failed to  
register at first. "Hey babe!"  
  
Makoto's eyes snapped to the source. To her right she could see a very  
masculine face not trying to not stare at her from a space between  
where two of the sewer pipes had formerly joined.  
  
"Geez, it's gettin' kinda cozy here. Come on!"  
  
She hesitated for a moment, and realized that there just was no time.  
The fellow offered his hand. She took it, and slipped into the  
crevasse with him. They ran for what felt like some distance. Finally  
the man started to slow.  
  
"We're probably safe now. They can't follow us." Makoto was silent. He  
gazed at her and shook his head. "Yer way too pretty to be a D-Bee,"  
he remarked.  
  
"I'm not a D-Bee," she protested.  
  
"Wait," he eyed her. "You are a D-Bee. You're that lady Cyber-Knight,  
right?"  
  
"Glad you noticed," she replied sarcastically, arms folded over her  
breasts.  
  
He did not seem to notice her tone.  
  
"Damn fine piece a'..." he grinned, gazing at her body boldly. "Uh,  
you want some clothes maybe?"  
  
She glared at him. He shrugged. He took off the leather coat he was  
wearing and offered it to her. She refused it, shivering.  
  
"Gettin' cold, eh? Come on, I'm not gonna hurt you, 'cause they ain'  
gonna let up so easy," he said, nonchalant. "An I'll be damned if I'm  
just gonna let you float here and get vaped. Got me?."  
  
"Yeah," she replied with a faint measure of gratitude.  
  
Makoto took the coat and wrapped it about her shoulders. He had a  
point. As they continued on, she noticed a dramatic change in the  
climate. From cool and muggy to warm and stale.  
  
"Where are we?" Makoto asked.  
  
"Jus' under a power plant," he stated seriously. "How 'bout I take ya  
somewhere you can get that collar and bracers off?"  
  
"I can't go topside like this!"  
  
He gave her a look that told her he would not mind forgetting that,  
but had not.  
  
"Here." He stopped and gestured towards a small closet. She stepped  
towards it, and opened the door. Inside were several sets of pants,  
shirts, blouses, and other accessories of varying types. Oddly, she  
noted that a fair portion, at least half of these, were selections of  
reasonable taste - in the feminine sense of the term.  
  
"I set this up a long time ago, just 'cause you never know."  
  
She started towards them, but hesitated.  
  
"Do you mind?" she asked.  
  
"Wha'?" A stern glance made him concede. He turned around. "Okay.  
Sorry."  
  
She blinked, and was silently thankful for his intervention, despite  
his somewhat harsh attitude.  
  
"Set this up? Why?" she muttered thoughtfully. "What do you do?"  
  
"Bodyguard," he offered curtly, his tones indicating his restlessness.  
"Look, we gotta get goin, okay? They'll catch up pretty frickin'  
fast."  
  
She frowned, and slipped on a shirt.  
  
"Hey, I'm getting dressed as fast as I bloody well can, okay?"  
  
"Sure. You mind if I ask what you were doin' down here, anyway?"  
  
"Actually, yes."  
  
"Huh," he grunted. "Right. Fine."  
  
"Okay, you can turn around now."  
  
He did, and froze, gazing appreciatively over her. He whistled  
appreciatively, though Makoto hardly found herself enjoying the  
attention for its baseness. She sighed heavily, eyebrows knitted,  
glare dangerously sharp.  
  
"You want the jacket back?" she uttered tensely.  
  
"Naw, you can keep it. Uh, you can call me Hanlan, eh... um, Han." He  
reached into the closet and pulled out another leather jacket while  
she slipped his old one over her shoulders. "What's yours?"  
  
"Makoto."  
  
"Huh, interestin' name. Suits ya."  
  
She squinted a curious eye at the comment, a little reproachful, but  
decided to let the matter drop. As it fell, they, in turn, shared a  
brief fascination.  
  
As he put on the jacket, she realized that there was something she  
found vaguely... attractive about him. He was quite heavily muscled.  
He seemed like the sort of fellow who spoke with his fists rather than  
words. His brown shoulder length hair looked like it could use a good  
combing, and washing. Nonetheless, it appropriately framed his roughly  
chiseled face. Even that looked stocky, edgy, and tough. He had deep  
blue eyes, which held her attention for a greater span of time than  
she preferred to admit. Despite this, Makoto thought they were almost  
inappropriate for such a bruiser. Lack luster, lack culture. Summarily  
a physical attraction, she felt. Nothing more.  
  
Though, he did remind her somewhat of her ex-boyfriend...  
  
:If I had a little time I could teach him to... I dunno, to wipe the  
drool off his face when he looks at me too long, he just might be  
worth this hell trip:  
  
In her nudity, at first glance, she had seemed to him like a  
pretty-girl. Further unabashed study indicated that she had more  
muscle definition than any pageant beauty was likely to have. She  
looked to have seen a lot of adventure and enjoyed it. Despite her  
musculature, she did not lack a figure. As a matter of fact, she had  
enough of one to rival a lot of the fragile beauty queens he had known  
in the past. Even though he really failed to comprehend her nature, he  
found himself quite drawn to her. It actually helped that she was  
clothed. Particularly in the style she had chosen. She had selected a  
blue shirt, black pants, shades, and black biker gloves, which he saw  
hanging out of one pocket. He decided his jacket looked very nice on  
her as well. She had a throaty, husky voice, and a tough, hard edged  
demeanour which he found quite relaxing. All the women he had known  
had run at the first sign of trouble. She looked like the type of girl  
who would not only face the trouble, but look for more. But then,  
trouble was just another factor in his life. He enjoyed it.  
  
The moment he realized he was attracted to her, he distracted from it  
by turning to the task at hand.  
  
"Uh, why don't we get you do that doc."  
  
"Doc? Who said anything about a doctor?" she asked, suddenly on her  
toes.  
  
"You deaf? I did. Look babe, if you want those bracers off... I can't  
do it, so... it's your call."  
  
"First you start by telling me where hell I am."  
  
He gazed at her for a steady moment.  
  
"What, you aren't from around here? Does New Quebec ring any bells?"  
  
She half-frowned, eyes narrowing.  
  
"Quebec? You mean Canada? I thought it was all mountains and snow  
peaks!"  
  
"What?" he blinked, looking puzzled. "Where'd you come from, anyways?  
C'mon, let's go."  
  
She nodded slightly, following his lead, a matter of second hand  
nature.  
  
"I don't know where I was, really. I was only down there for a few  
months, and no one told me."  
  
"Uh, okay. Don' matter to me."  
  
"Han, how about we get something straight, okay?"  
  
He stopped and faced the girl who he knew was about to draw the lines  
of interaction between them. His face was somewhat hard, but he said  
nothing.  
  
"Next time you stare at me like a side of beef, you'll regret it.  
Clear?"  
  
"A threat?" he drawled. "Oh damn, I think I'm shakin'."  
  
She growled angrily at that.  
  
"Hey, hey... Most chicks don' mind if I stare, you got me? Way I  
figure it, it's a compliment! If ya do mind, you jus' tell me. Okay?"  
  
Makoto's sour expression did not lessen. In fact, she threw him an  
angrily rancid look.  
  
"Bullshit," she bit off. "Don't patronize me!"  
  
His sigh was weighted, and his eyes jumped uncomfortably between her  
face and the stone floor. No one had ever had the nerve to call his  
ego on the level, aside from his deceased mother. Not really sure why,  
exactly, he felt the need to apologize to her. She was so pretty, and  
man, tough as nails!  
  
"Ah geez Makoto," he started slowly. "I'm sorry. Okay? I mean it."  
  
She considered this for a moment, and watched his slightly slumped  
shoulders and uneasy face. Like most of the boys she had known, he was  
falling into place. Though usually they gave her immediate respect.  
  
"I can do respect, if you can just ease up and maybe trust me. 'Cause  
I tell ya, we ain't gettin' topside if you jus' wanna argue."  
  
She nodded slowly, and uncrossed her arms.  
  
"All right, but if you cross that line buster, I will make you wear  
it!"  
  
"Huh, if you say so," he replied, disbelieving, then turned around and  
started walking.  
  
"You don't think I can?"  
  
He shrugged  
  
"Whatever. Not like I care."  
  
But she did, she realized. Oddly enough, in spite of his treatment, it  
did matter to her. Bitter confusion arose that this point, but it  
relaxed swiftly. His attraction to her was obvious, and altogether not  
at all surprising. They passed quickly back into the sewers, up  
through a tunnel and into a back alley, right into Coalition suburbia.  
They were directly within the walls of the CS State, guarded from the  
dangers of the Rifts, and smitten by the threat of capture by their  
guardians.  
  
"Are you sure it's safe?"  
  
He looked back at her.  
  
"You tell me. You're the Psi-Freak."  
  
"Psi-Freak?!" she snapped back. "Just because I can... uh... cripes."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Look over my shoulder," she said. "Someone nearby... not sure where -  
is upset. Actually, it's more like disappointed. There's a lot of  
related anger there, too."  
  
"We're almost there..." Han's unshaven face tensed in consideration.  
"Damnit, I'm not taking any chances with you."  
  
He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the nearest alleyway.  
  
"Just what do you think you're doing?" she snarled, easily freeing his  
arm from his powerful grip. "If they want a fight, they can just come  
and get it!"  
  
"We're going to take the back door," he said, ignoring her statement.  
  
"What? Just you..."  
  
"Look, I don't give a damn who trained you," Han said plainly, not  
looking at her. "You're a woman. And you don't fight. So don't give me  
no sass, cause ain' no one fucks with Han the Man."  
  
Still, glancing over her shoulder, Makoto could see no one behind her.  
  
"Okay," she flared, pausing to summon a glowing broadsword of pure  
psychic energy. "Bring it on 'Han the Man'."  
  
"Holy hell," he swore, staring dumbly at the impressive weapon. With  
that, she could quickly reduce him to pieces. "Jesus...! I gotta watch  
my damn mouth!"  
  
She stopped, her face losing its resonant anger. Abruptly, the sharp  
report of a shotgun sent her flying - a shapely rag doll - into the  
red brick wall nearby with a solid whump!  
  
"Psionics don't mean shit," said a voice, accompanied by the click of  
a rifle.  
  
With a feral snarl and low bellow, Han leapt at the man before him in  
a tier of rage. There was a gunshot and a dull thwack! and Han got to  
his feet, his barrel-like chest heaving with effort and emotion.  
  
"Bastard," he cursed, then whirled about to check on the folded form  
of Makoto. She was breathing, and moving, he noticed as he grabbed his  
opponent's weapon. No blood, though.  
  
"Armor," he muttered, gazing about him. He wasn't alone, and knew it.  
  
"He greased Alex!" a voice exclaimed. Three dark figures appeared  
seemingly from nowhere. They did not appear to be armed. Han hefted  
the shortened double-barrelled weapon in his hands.  
  
:One man with a gun against three. Yep; Han thought, :that makes it  
about even:  
  
He level the gun and shot the nearest of the three, who fell to the  
ground, motionless. Just as he turned to aim for the next, hands  
reached out and wrenched the gun easily from his grip. A fist hit him,  
hard, and he tasted blood. He staggered backwards, landing on his  
butt.  
  
Makoto cursed as she approached Han's assailant. Han was not sure if  
she even moved when she attacked the two figures. No, her hands and  
arms did blur as she struck them. They came back twice, and Makoto  
delivered, quite clearly enjoying physical combat.  
  
She was a natural. Scratch that. She was supernatural. She could kick  
his ass! Finally, they lay on the ground, unmoving. Han managed to get  
to his feet by the end of the fight, cursing is inability to defeat  
the three attackers.  
  
"How's that for a girl?" she stated, stepping up to him, hands on  
hips. "Jackass... you'd be dead if I... uh..."  
  
Han said nothing, he just looked at her. His eyes fell to her, and  
locked. Before he knew what happened, she was in his arms, and their  
lips pressed. A moment flickered, and dropped. She stepped back,  
flustered. The attraction was mutual, she blinked, abashed and ahgast.  
Her face soured slightly as she spoke.  
  
"Just what the hell was..."  
  
"Let's just go, ok?" Han said.  
  
Dazed, and feeling psychologically mussed, she nodded. She needed time  
to figure him out.  
  
---  
  
"Where'd you say you was from again?" A slightly overweight man asked  
as he carefully lasered the vibro-restraints.  
  
"Tokyo," she said, watching his cigar stained fingers carefully.  
  
He snickered. "Don't ya worry none, I ain't hurt a'one yet."  
  
"Yet," she observed tiredly.  
  
"Tokyo? Can't say much about th' place, 'cept they got some nice tek,"  
he paused to expel a cloud of smoke through his mouth. "And nice  
women."  
  
Makoto sighed internally, and coughed aloud.  
  
"Nothin' pers'nal. Yer nice lookin' too."  
  
:What a shack; she thought. Bits and pieces of what Laray called "tek"  
lay strewn everywhere, in no particular order.  
  
:How can he live like this?: Then it occurred to her. :He really  
doesn't have any alternative: Her mind wandered to a place she missed.  
:I want to go back home. I want...:  
  
She bowed her head slightly, hoping to hide her tears. Suddenly Han  
was there, asking Laray if he was done. The balding man nodded deftly.  
  
"If y' don' mind, I'm gonna keep yer collar. I guess y' don' want it?"  
  
She merely shook her head.  
  
"Okay. I gotta check sum s'pplies 'n the back room..."  
  
"Just go," Han said. Without further supposition, he did.  
  
"Why're you crying, babe? Was it something they... uh... did?"  
  
She smiled faintly, then broke into bitter tears again. She felt  
eighteen again, and did not like it.  
  
:Why am I crying now? Why in front of Han?:  
  
Somehow it came to her: Kindred soul.  
  
The bruiser took Makoto in his arms, and was quiet for a while. 


	6. Love, when it was not thought possible

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 5: Love, when it was not thought possible  
  
"So you really are that 'Sliver' chick?" Han asked, sounding somewhat  
skeptical. His eyes traced her figure again underneath her clothes. He  
still was having trouble getting used to the idea of her being so  
pretty and tough at the same time. The fact that she was so tough made  
her more attractive, he reasoned.  
  
"Yeah," Makoto confirmed with some measure of ill ease.  
  
"What are you?" He gazed at her.  
  
She was silent a moment, nearly expectant. Han looked puzzled. Then he  
clued in; the fight, the kiss. He frowned, almost looking sheepish.  
  
"Hey look, it's not like I mind you bein' all powered up an  
CyberKnight-like... but I never figgered a legend to be a chick,  
unless it was Erin Tarin," he started. Makoto indicated to him that  
she was listening by raising an eyebrow. "I mean, every girl I've been  
with couldn't fight. Scared dumb of it. But you know, I ain't gonna  
argue 'cause it's money."  
  
Makoto gazed at him steadily. He hadn't answered the question.  
  
"Well, yeah, I'll say it: It's nice t' know a girl with guts."  
  
Even though he seemed finished, Makoto said nothing in reply. Again,  
he took a moment to speak.  
  
"What can I say about the kiss, Mako? Maybe I did it 'cause I don't  
know how else to say I like you."  
  
Something grabbed her. She could not be sure exactly what it was, at  
first. She knew, however, that it was something about him. She  
regarded him, wanting, for a reason she could not quite understand, to  
hold him, to kiss him again. She closed her eyes and tried to clear  
her mind of the thought. Stubbornly, the desire remained.  
  
:Why? He was such a creep!:  
  
"Hey, you okay?" he asked. She looked at him and nodded.  
  
:What is it about him?; she asked herself. :Why do I...: a knot  
tightened in her stomach. Even thinking of it brought the desire  
forth, like a lure. :What is the difference between Han and the other  
men... no, boys: She realized that this was the first man that she was  
attracted to. That is what it was. She was uncertain. Almost...  
afraid.  
  
"Hey babe?"  
  
Of him? No, that wasn't it. But... what? Makoto snapped out of her  
trance of thought.  
  
"Um, yeah. I was just thinking."  
  
He smirked.  
  
"I kinda got the feeling you were like me when it came to thinking. I  
usually go for the trouble first. Even if I know it."  
  
Makoto was not sure what to say.  
  
"I guess so."  
  
He leaned forward.  
  
"We can't stay here too long, sexy, but maybe you could tell me  
something about being a... uh, what is it?"  
  
"Sexy?" she returned with an amused smile and a warmth in her face. "I  
guess I could," she supplied.  
  
---  
  
It turned out that Hanlan did not live very far away. He lived in the  
top floor of the building, in fact. Laray and he had been friends for  
years, and helped each other out in the knowledge starved society the  
CS was creating. Laray was kind enough provide Hanlan with weapons (at  
a friendly price of 40% black market value) when he needed them, and  
Hanlan, in turn, mostly due to the type of people he hung around with,  
kept up a steady flow of clients for the cyber-doc and part time  
techno-wizard. Unfortunately, Laray was really bad at the latter, so  
he avoided it most of the time.  
  
Makoto and Hanlan sat across from each other in his three-room home.  
The main part consisted of a kitchen/livingroom - or rather, what  
passed for one - bedroom, and storage/bathroom. The bedroom was in  
shambles. Apparently he was a much more efficient fighter than keeper  
of house and home. Not that this surprised her; most men like him  
relied on women - often very much like their mothers - to keep such  
things in order. It could have been worse, most of his clothes had  
somehow ended up in a pile - destined for what she hardly cared. The  
rest consisted of Pre-Rifts artifacts; mostly melee type and other  
ancient type weapons.  
  
"You know we didn't even have a chance," Makoto began, somewhat  
hesitant. "Only I could transform, and no way could I have fought them  
off alone."  
  
Han gazed at her, not quite sure what he was hearing.  
  
"Uh, what? Whaddya mean, 'transform'?"  
  
"The slaver barge. Uh, my... well, I have a pen that turns me into a  
sailor suited warrior."  
  
"A what?" he asked with a quirked brow. "Show me?"  
  
"Well, I..." her mouth curled in consideration. "Um..."  
  
"I won't laugh," he grinned. "Promise."  
  
She frowned, worrying on exactly that point. Gradually, she nodded.  
With a motion practiced to the point of expertise, she brought the pen  
into the air above her head and called:  
  
"Sailor Jupiter - Make Up!"  
  
There were no lights, no flashing lines of energy, just Suddenly  
Jupiter. She gazed over herself as Hanlan took in an eyefull, and then  
some.  
  
"You sure you ain't some kinda street wal..."  
  
Her stern expression cut him off.  
  
"I didn't do this so you could leer at me!" she snapped, glaring at  
him.  
  
"Uh, okay, sorry," he offered, though having a hard time not staring  
at her. "Why don't you just sit down, huh? We can talk, okay? You can  
tell me about the... uh..."  
  
"Senshi?"  
  
"Well, uh, actually, the Splugores, or whatever y' call 'em."  
  
"Splugorth," she pronounced delicately. "I guess. There's not much to  
tell, really. We woke up in Atlantis, all still together."  
  
She paused, noting his politely raised hand.  
  
"Okay there sexy, who's 'we'?"  
  
She glanced at her hands as they fliddled with the hem of her  
mircoskirt.  
  
"My friends. Ami... Usagi, Rei, and Minako."  
  
"All girls?"  
  
A nod.  
  
"Okay. Go for it."  
  
She threw him a look, indicating that she hadn't exactly been waiting  
for his permission. He shrugged.  
  
"Apparently we were together because of our uniqueness, being aliens -  
from the moon, I mean."  
  
"So Atlantis is legit?"  
  
"Yeah, where'd you figure I got my scars from, hm?" she set upon him  
nastily.  
  
"Kinky sex life?" he half-grinned, eyeing her skirt as if to peer  
underneath.  
  
Makoto sighed. She began to wonder what she saw in him until she  
looked at him again. The thoughts of his ill-humor faded. Every time  
she thought about it, she realized that she was falling more deeply in  
love with him.  
  
"I met someone called Sivil Nira." Makoto closed her eyes for a  
moment, as if watching an unpleasant scene play in her mind. "She...  
brought us together, and..."  
  
"What happened to her?" For a moment a flicker of recognition shone in  
his eyes. Makoto noticed, but in her state, it failed to register.  
  
"She died attacking one of them," she said, her voice hushed with  
emotion. Han's eyebrows knitted and his gaze fell for an instant. "She  
had to create a diversion for us to escape."  
  
"That sucks. That really, really sucks," Han stated, sounding sullen.  
  
Makoto arched an eyebrow.  
  
"You talk like you knew her."  
  
"Yeah, actually, I did. She was a client, and an old girlfriend.  
Freaky, huh?" He spoke with a soft wistfulness in his tones, and the  
anxiousness of recollection.  
  
"Yeah," she replied somewhat numbly.  
  
"So how'd ya get here?"  
  
She shook her head, lifting her hands to her head and rubbing her  
temples.  
  
"Okay," he shrugged. "You take is easy, K? I'm just gonna get up here  
in a sec and... uh... you hungry?"  
  
Her eyes widened.  
  
"You have a kitchen in this dump?"  
  
"Somewhere," he replied her expression with a chuckle in a slightly  
ignorant-looking fashion. "You cook?"  
  
"Oh yes," she smiled, a comfort wafting over her expression as she  
rose, approaching the one wall culinary outfit. Modest was a kind word  
that could not have been attributed to the kitchen-like structure, but  
it was enough. A keyword both were used to living by. Popping open the  
waist-high refrigerator, she began rummaging through the contents, and  
plucked out the occasional useful item. Mind you, they could all be  
useful, if one was skilled, knowledgable, and creative enough.  
Fortunately, this was an area in which she excelled even when out of  
practice. Ten minutes later she had a vegatable, ham, sweet and sour  
sauce stir fry prepared and served.  
  
"Holy shit," Hanlan gasped as he gaped at the plate set before him.  
He'd never seen such a well prepared meal before. Not in his  
apartment, anyway.  
  
"Actually, it's 'thank you'," she corrected him calmly, taking a pair  
of make-shift chop sticks in hand and digging in. "This much better  
than that."  
  
"Oh, uh... yeah!" he smiled. "Wow! Uh... thank you. Looks, cooks, and  
kicks ass! Damn, you rock, Makoto."  
  
She gave him a curious glance briefly.  
  
"I will tell you how I escaped from... uh..."  
  
"What was the place like? All white like a hospital?"  
  
She nodded, chewing delicately.  
  
"Musta been Neo Tech. They're the only outfit out here coulda kept a  
CyberKnight under wraps."  
  
She gazed at him steadily, trying to read his meaning beyond the  
words.  
  
"I just punched through the wall and into the sewer. It was tough,  
but... I'm here, right?"  
  
"Oh geez... Jus' how strong are you?" he asked, the smile  
disappearing.  
  
"It's my code that stops me from killing," she stated, a vaguely dark  
expression upon her face.  
  
"Code?"  
  
"The Code of Chivalry, of the Cyber-Knight," she replied in definite  
tones, low and passionate. "I can put my hands through CS Armor like  
tearing paper."  
  
:Ouch: Han was visibly impressed.  
  
"You sure you don' wanna talk about Atlantis...?"  
  
Makoto averted her eyes as Han sought them. She said nothing.  
  
"Okay, forget it. I wouldn't push ya, even if I could."  
  
Abruptly, Makoto's expression became sorrowful, and looked to promote  
tears. Han immediately felt bad for speaking, even though he wasn't  
sure what had set her off. She made not so much as a single sniffle,  
but he knew she was torn up inside. Tough girls rarely, rarely ever  
cried. Never, in front of others. Something about their chemistry made  
her comfortable enough to do so. He just gazed at her, a powerful ache  
in his soul for her as she set the chopsticks beside her empty plate  
to cover her tear streaked face with her hands as her shoulders began  
to jolt with the forthcoming wash of pain. This ache, its presence was  
sudden, but immovable. How to deal with her pain, he did not know. All  
he knew was to be silent. He had learned that from Astin. She had been  
very clear about that. You don't talk when a girl is shedding tears,  
she had said. Shedding tears. She actually said that.  
  
And why exactly this powerhouse of a girl burst into tears around him  
puzzled him even further, but he wasn't exactly insensitive. He rose,  
and walked around the table, nearing her side. Folding her arms across  
her stomach and bowing her head, she refused him, bravely shouldering  
her own agony, though somewhat foolishly so.  
  
His offer was the first, and while sincere and worthy of honour, her  
hesitance was understandable.  
  
"Han...?" an emotion choked voice whispered. Han snapped back into  
reality. He was with Makoto, not Astin. She was still crying softly,  
so Han did not say anything.  
  
"Hanlan?" The heaving of her sobbing trailed to a close.  
  
"Yes Mako?" Han said, voice also hushed cautiously.  
  
"You're not..." she hesitated for a half-instant, "involved, are you?"  
  
He blinked at the question.  
  
"Uh, no," he replied uncertainly. "Listen babe, you okay? Can I ask  
why you were crying like that? If it was something I said..."  
  
Makoto shook her head silently, and gazed up at him, red eyed and so  
very vulnerable. The contrast startled him. With a not much more than  
a thought she could have killed him, yet at this moment she appeared  
as fragile as thin glass. He could make no claim in understanding her.  
Silently, he grasped her hand, and gently drew her to her feet, and  
into his finely muscled arms. His mouth opened, worked as if to speak,  
and issued nothing forth.  
  
"Oh t' friggin' hell..." He took her chin in his hand and kissed her  
softly.  
  
"Han... I don't..." Makoto looked down for a moment after their lips  
parted. "I can't."  
  
He nodded slightly, sensing only afterward that his advance had been  
ill-timed. She stepped back from him, and not so much as sat but  
crumbled into a nearby patchwork recliner.  
  
"That's cool, babe. If maybe you just want to take it easy, I'm gonna  
hit the couch, okay? I'm beat."  
  
She watched him rise, and leave without so much as a lingering glance.  
He did smile at her before flopping on the aforementioned furnishing,  
and there was a trace of disappointment. Yet, he hadn't insisted, not  
even arguing a single wit. Some hours later, after much thought, and  
prayer, she joined him, leaving the pieces of her fuku in a trail to  
the couch.  
  
---  
  
After some time, she realized she was naked with him again. This time,  
however, she did not really mind. It was not that he was naked as  
well, it was that she had gained some amount of certainty - and  
control, having made love with him like this. She looked up at the  
hard features of his face. He looked so, calm, almost peaceful. She  
ran a hand over his cheek, and then kissed it softly. Carefully, she  
stood, trying her best not to wake him. She almost regretted what she  
knew must be done. The emotions she felt for him were more certain  
now, and felt all the more like love. She felt a pang.  
  
Everything was happening so rapidly!  
  
:I know you wouldn't want me to do this; she thought. :But I'm going  
anyway. My friends are still out there. I can't give up. Not yet:  
  
She slipped on the blouse, and other clothes he had given to her  
earlier. For a bruiser, he was rather sweet.  
  
:I know you won't understand:  
  
The leather jacket slipped easily around her shoulders, fitting  
perfectly. He groaned, shifting in his slumber. She froze, watching  
his eyelids carefully. They did not open. Finally, after what seemed  
an eternity, he relaxed, snoring quietly. She noted that his home was  
not much, but it was more than she had now. It was more than she ever  
had since arriving here.  
  
Makoto had almost discarded the desire to settle down, having joined  
the Cyber-Knights. She let herself be consumed by the war against the  
D-bees, the demons, the evil. There was so much of it. There was more  
every day. Not all of it came from the Rifts, she knew. There was one  
man who was a great source of it. Prosek, and his son. To think a man  
of such corrupt power had procreated sent shivers through her. Rumors  
told her that Prosek had Rei. Or at least, a girl who sounded a great  
deal like her. Then there were the rumors of Ami's capture, of the  
violence she endured, that perhaps she was dead.  
  
Makoto walked into the kitchen, or that which passed for it. She gazed  
at the section of wall, and realized just how much she had missed  
cooking. Hanlan had wolfed down the stir fry with male politeness. It  
was nice to have that aspect of her life appreciated again after so  
long.  
  
:Well; she thought, :pick one; food, and death, or fight evil, and...  
what?:  
  
The lack of an answer for the latter choice scared her. It always had.  
  
"Hungry? I s'ppose you where just running out for a snack, eh Mako?"  
  
She turned on one foot, tense as a drawn bowstring. There was a sour  
expression on his face. Her tension drifted to the floor as her eyes  
did, and she found herself wanting for words.  
  
"What do y' suppose you were gonna do? Save me trouble by takin' off?"  
He was angry, and rightfully so. Still Makoto could say nothing. She  
gazed at him as he stood there, and strangely, despite the fact he was  
angry at her, she felt drawn to him again.  
  
"My friends are out there, Han," she started. "I can't let them go."  
  
The anger drained from his face, and in the place of it was  
understanding. A boyishly quiet look came to his face.  
  
"I haven't had a lot of friends in my life," he admitted softly. He  
stopped for a moment, clearly thinking on his next words. "I guess I'm  
not so mad at you for wanting to help them."  
  
Makoto felt herself near tears again, and hated herself for it. She  
cursed under her breath. Han walked up to her, and took her in his  
arms. She let her head rest on his barrel of a chest as tears flowed.  
  
"I think I love you," he said. "I guess that's why I don't want you to  
take off. I think maybe I can help. I think maybe I want to."  
  
They were silent for a time. He continued talking. Makoto was not sure  
of most of what he said, but found it comforting. She wondered why it  
was her crying, and not Usagi. She did not know. Maybe Usagi was  
crying a lot still. She... no, they - Han kept on stressing that -  
would find her friends. Then what? Makoto thought for sure they were  
not the same as they used to be, or that they would not be. But what  
would happen after they found them?  
  
"Mako? Are you okay?" she heard his voice ask. She nodded against his  
chest. He pushed her away slightly so he could look into her eyes.  
"Are you sure? I mean, you seem to be doin' a lot of cryin'."  
  
"I think so," but her face did not share the conviction of her words.  
She looked away, bringing a concerned look to his face.  
  
"What, babe...? What?" His voice was soft, gentle. She wanted to say  
it, but found the words locked in her throat. He was silent. In his  
eyes she could read he wanted to help her, but did not know what to  
say, nor how to say it.  
  
"I'm scared..." she said, and leaned against him, the spoken emotion  
welling inside of her. "I've never really been scared before like  
this. Even when I died for Usagi... I wasn't scared."  
  
"Died?" he grunted. "Uh?"  
  
"Later," she muttered faintly. "Please..."  
  
"You got it babe," he replied warmly.  
  
In his mind he wondered what there was she had to be afraid of. His  
eyes narrowed and he felt himself grow angry at the thought of her  
being fearful. He paused, and wondered at this feeling. Sure he had  
protected women before, but not because he cared about them. Rather,  
because it was his job. This was different. He actually cared about  
Makoto, and wanted to see her happy. That was all that mattered to him  
now, he realized. If fighting made her happy, then she could fight. If  
being with him made her happy... he did not mind that at all. He  
smiled gently.  
  
"Makoto," he said, breaking Astin's rule. She was silent. He pushed  
her away slightly again, kissing her softly, to reassure her. "We're  
gonna see a friend of mine. I think he can help us."  
  
"What? Who?" she asked, sounding startled. "You mean Laray?"  
  
He shook his head.  
  
"No. Laray's just a techie. He's a good guy, but just a techie." He  
let go of her, and headed towards the other room. Makoto looked tired  
and afraid.  
  
"What's his name?" she asked, voice hushed.  
  
Han stopped just before the leaving the room. He smiled and said,  
"Conroy."  
  
---  
  
They had been on the road for a while. Nothing much had happened.  
Makoto had tripped up a couple of black market thugs looking for a  
quick credit-hit.  
  
"So you never really told me much about being a Cyber-Knight," Han  
said, smiling at Makoto. "All those monsters you fought."  
  
She shrugged. "I just defended a couple towns from some demons."  
  
"No wonder you took out those guys like that," he smirked, thumbing  
behind him.  
  
"Humans are easy to fight, most of the time. Unless they have magic,  
or power armor. I like fighting Juicers," she smiled darkly, "they're  
a little tougher, but they're all human."  
  
Han blanched.  
  
"You mean you fight Juicers for fun?"  
  
"No, but I could," she eyed him. "What, they aren't that tough."  
  
The bruiser looked amazed.  
  
"You're not nuts. At least, you don't look like a crazy. You don't  
have those freaky knobs stickin' out of your head," he replied in both  
verbal casting and facial expression.  
  
"I guess that makes me a little more than human, eh?" she grinned,  
enjoying his reaction.  
  
Han scratched the back of his head, still unbelieving.  
  
"Okay, so maybe I don't wanna know."  
  
Makoto shrugged, "Whatever, hon."  
  
Han gazed at her.  
  
"Hon?"  
  
She smiled and nodded. Han still could not quite believe he was  
falling in love with the tough girl he had never dreamed existed. Yet,  
here she was, accepting him with argument aplenty.  
  
Such is love.  
  
"Uh, okay, so maybe I do."  
  
She shrugged, saying nothing. Han waited.  
  
"Are you going to say anything?" he asked, incredulous.  
  
"Are you sure you want to hear it? Fighting Juicers is the least of  
it, if that give you any idea of what I've dealt with." She did not  
look at him, seeming to concentrate on where they were. "How much  
farther is it anyway?"  
  
"New Quebec's pretty frickin' big, and alleys ain't the best way to  
get around. We still got awhile." He paused. "Yeah I'm sure. I can  
handle it."  
  
She smirked, then her face assumed a more serious expression.  
  
"I became a Cyber-Knight one year ago because I didn't know what else  
to do. I did it to repay a favor, and for my friends."  
  
"What kind of favor?"  
  
Makoto hesitated.  
  
"Well?" He looked expectant.  
  
"A Cyber-Knight saved my life. I thought becoming a Cyber-Knight might  
help me to find a direction. Besides," she giggled lightly, "he was so  
cute! It was worth it just to train under him."  
  
"Wasn't easy, was it?" Han was watching something ahead of them. It  
appeared as though a fire had broken out in a small industrial  
building. People were scrambling about like headless chickens.  
  
"Uh," he swore, "Coalition. I won't have a problem wit'em. But I don't  
think we wanna get you mixed up with 'em."  
  
Makoto nodded. "I want to avoid any ISS Kooks, if I can."  
  
"Damn straight babe. We're jus' gona have t' take the long way 'round  
then." He indicated the adjoining alley to his right. "This'll take us  
there, but not fast."  
  
She nodded, then proceeded with her explanation.  
  
"You want to know why I like fighting Juicers? 'Cause one almost  
killed me."  
  
"Makes sense," Han shrugged. "Do'ya think y'd mind tellin' me how?"  
  
She echoed the motion of his shoulders.  
  
"I guess he was just a rouge. Probably at the end of his term, too. It  
was just after I'd arrived here..." she closed her eyes. "Um, no,  
nevermind. Anyway, I was lost in the woods, wandering, and wounded. I  
was hoping to find a city - or something. Instead I ran into the  
Juicer and his pals.  
  
"One of them just looked at me and said, 'Squishy.' He laughed. I  
don't know if he saw me bleeding, but he must have figured me for a  
normal human. Maybe he was looking for credits. Or fun. I don't know.  
  
"'C'mere pretty thing,' he sneered. I did. I didn't know what he was  
then, but I figured I'd wise him up for badmouthing me. I just swung  
at him. He seemed to know it was coming. He side-stepped the punch and  
laughed again. I never saw anyone move so fast before! Not since  
Usagi.... uh... He didn't swing back or anything, he just stood there  
and laughed.  
  
"I was getting really pissed off. So I tried again. I was weak, and  
was bleeding pretty badly. I guess I wasn't thinking straight either,  
trying to fight him like that. I tried a few times, and just kept  
missing. He made a joke of it, dodging before I threw my punches, and  
commenting on my swings.  
  
"'You fight like a girl,' he said. He was looking at his pals and  
laughing loudly. I don't know what happened after that. I guess I just  
lost it, or snapped, or something like that.  
  
"I didn't know if he was careless, drunk, or what, but I tagged him. I  
can't have hit him that hard. I was practically dying, but I ripped  
his shoulder open... damn nearly took his arm off." Makoto closed her  
eyes, remembering, a look of pain, and distaste passing over her face.  
"He didn't even scream. His pals just looked scared, and then ran off.  
One of them muttered something about him being 'juiced.' I saw a  
crazed look in his eyes, and knew, no matter how fast I ran, he was  
going to kill me.  
  
"He nearly did too."  
  
Han looked slightly upset, but lost for words.  
  
"I'm sorry Makoto."  
  
She set him a glance portraying a trace of gratitude, and she then  
shook her head. After a moment, she continued.  
  
"I was barely conscious when the Cyber-Knight came. All I heard was a  
scuffle. I felt his presence, and heard his voice. That's when I fell  
in love with him. More of a crush, really. He saved my life. Took me  
back to his house, healed me, and eventually taught me the ways of the  
Cyber-Knight." Han looked chagrined.  
  
"Is that it? You just learned it all?"  
  
"Well no, of course not. It took me weeks to accept the lifestyle. As  
for the training, do you really want me to get into philosophy?"  
  
"Philo-what?" Han started, nonplused. "Uh, I guess not."  
  
They walked for a while in silence. Makoto watched the area around  
her. Somehow they were managing to avoid a lot of Coalition troopers.  
She watched Han, too. He seemed to be very aware of what was going  
around him, and he seemed to want to stay out of the way of the  
Coalition as well. Makoto slowly worked up the nerve to speak.  
  
"So what do you do?" she ventured.  
  
"Do? Uh, I'm a Bodyguard."  
  
"Protecting who?"  
  
"Depends on who's still alive," he stated flatly. "See, I'm really  
good... I keep my clients alive. The others guys ain't so good, or  
jus' don' care. Most don' care, mostly. Tho some of 'em work for the  
black market, too. So if a client dies accidental-like, no one really  
notices. Dig?"  
  
Makoto looked a little shocked.  
  
"You don't care?"  
  
He inclined his shoulders upwards indifferently.  
  
"Me? Damn yeah. I guess I do care, but I'm not gonna get the black  
market on my case, right? I'm just one guy. I like my life just fine."  
  
"Before, or after?" Makoto asked with a smirk.  
  
"What? Oh," he smiled. "After, of course. And I'm thinkin' maybe I'll  
just quit the bodyguard biz. I mean, I think we'll find plenty of  
action lookin' for your friends." He looked at her. "Speakin' of  
which, who are they? And what the frick is this stuff about you dyin'?  
You immortal 'r something?"  
  
"You heard of the girls caught at Lone Star?"  
  
"What? You mean the one who's dead? And what... the other one, she's  
some kind of freak or something? Those are your friends?" Han had an  
expression of distaste written on his face.  
  
"Those are exaggerations. I'm pretty sure that those two are Rei and  
Ami. Ami was, well, still human when we, um, parted company... So I  
don't think that's changed. I think it's a lie."  
  
"Rei, Ami. That explains it," he sighed, "yeah. All of it."  
  
"Where I come from we fought the NegaVerse. They wanted to take over  
the universe, starting with earth. The five of us..."  
  
"Wait," Han interrupted her, "five?"  
  
She nodded. "Yeah, including me."  
  
"And you saved the whole planet? I mean, where you come from." He  
sounded skeptical.  
  
"Well, there weren't very many of them, and they only tried to take  
over Tokyo. I'm not really human, if that helps to explain it. I'm  
from the Moon. I'm a Princess of Jupiter. Well, I was, anyway."  
  
"Pretty tough for a princess," he remarked with a grin. "And what, you  
still got killed? By what?"  
  
She did not reply his expression as she spoke:  
  
"We protected Tsukino Usagi, the heir of the Moon Kingdom. We were all  
senshi. Her scared champion protectors. It was our job, our destiny.  
We died fulfilling that destiny, and defeating the crowned Queen of  
the NegaVerse."  
  
"Pretty cool job if ya ask me," he said, still grinning. "So who  
brought ya back?"  
  
She shrugged.  
  
"Queen Serenity. She's... um, related," she coughed, "to Usagi. Sort  
of. Anyway, we beat Queen Beryl, then Allan and Ail and the Doom Tree,  
but then we were brought here."  
  
"I guess you didn't have a choice, right?"  
  
"Well, no! Do you think I would've wanted to be here?"  
  
Han's face suddenly darkened.  
  
"No, I guess not."  
  
"Um, that is... I'm okay now..." her voice and tone dropped, "well  
sorta... But..."  
  
"Listen Mako, you don't have to say anything else if you don't want  
to. I get the point."  
  
She grabbed his arm and stopped him, looking vaguely upset.  
  
"Han, don't think you haven't made me happy. You have... but I miss my  
friends. I don't think I can be totally happy until I know what's  
happened to them."  
  
Han frowned, still unsatisfied.  
  
"I don't think I really want to go back now anyway. I mean, I guess  
the NegaForce took over by now without us there to stop it." She  
suddenly looked angry.  
  
Han turned to her and took her shoulders in his hands.  
  
"I'm sorry. I guess I was bein' selfish. They're your friends... I  
know I miss mine."  
  
Makoto's anger faded as she looked up at him slightly.  
  
"What happened to them?"  
  
Han sighed.  
  
"Like I said, I haven't had a lot of friends. Mostly just one or two  
along the way. Most of 'em are dead. Others, well... enemies make life  
interesting, I guess, eh?"  
  
Makoto looked to the ground for a moment, then to his eyes.  
  
"I just like to crush 'em," she smiled darkly.  
  
Han smiled, "I love that about you." He pulled her into his arms and  
squeezed her gently. "It's gonna be okay. Really."  
  
Makoto leaned her head on his shoulder.  
  
"Oh I hope so."  
  
---  
  
Unlike Laray, Conroy turned out to be a softly spoken, smart sounding  
fellow, proprietor of a shop named Conroy's Cybernetics. His shop was  
unorganized, unkempt, and distinctly disturbing. In spite of her  
familiarity with his technological medium, she found the sight of  
disembodied mechanical limbs quite unsettling.  
  
:Thank Coake; she thought, :he's not into Bio-System prosthetic  
replacements. Ick:  
  
"So the great and highly sought Sliver is Makoto Kino!" Conroy  
remarked, sounding genuinely amazed. He was a short, thin man, who  
always looked as though he was thinking something terribly amusing.  
His strict crew cut of hair left little of the tan colored shag atop  
his skull, seeming to make a point of the impish features upon his  
face. It was his apparent knowledge of the situation that brushed  
aside his self-imposed image of the isolated doctor stereotype.  
  
"Sought... What do you mean?" Makoto asked, eying the fellow closely,  
wrinkling her nose slightly when she detected the undeniable odor of  
oil and blood.  
  
"Oh yes," he replied with a half grin, clearly aware of her response  
to him. "You, my dear, have a very sizable price on your head.  
Something close to thirty-kilocredits I believe. Not to mention that  
at the moment, there are more than a dozen troops seeking you within  
the confines of New Quebec's walls."  
  
Makoto stared at him, trying to glean some indication of honesty or  
deception beyond his augmented monovision sight.  
  
"How do you know that?" she demanded angrily.  
  
Han put a gentle hand on her shoulder.  
  
"He's got his methods, babe... trust me."  
  
For a moment she could not be sure. He seemed sincere, and Hanlan  
trusted him. She sighed.  
  
"I don't get it. Is there some kind of organization behind all of  
this?"  
  
"All of what?" Conroy asked, looking curious.  
  
"Don't play stupid with me," Makoto snarled, striding with heated  
deliberation towards the man. "There's no way Han could have just  
turned up to save me the way he did."  
  
"Why not?" The wisp of a fellow did not seem to be intimidated by her  
harsh demeanor. Then, as he spoke, his voice assumed a darker, more  
serious tone. "Listen Makoto. Listen carefully. If you want any  
information at all, you are going to have to be more specific. I deny  
nothing; you are merely not handing me the details I require."  
  
Somehow, she felt, the conversation had resorted to a game, or rather,  
a form of verbal combat. To win, she had only to... to what? What was  
it he was playing at? Then it occurred to her. To win, she merely had  
to answer her own question. To solve the object of twenty questions.  
Supply points to be denied or affirmed, and it would become clear.  
Whatever it was. She fought an urge to tell him to take a seat on her  
vibro claws and go for an unhealthy spin.  
  
"Like what? Like our escape, for starters. Tell me what you know, and  
not what you've heard."  
  
He half smiled, as if impressed.  
  
"Over a cup of coffee, perhaps?"  
  
Han grunted, confused.  
  
"Uh, Con, what are you doin'?"  
  
The blond haired man allowed as self empowered grin to alter his  
expression.  
  
"You wanted help Han old friend... You've just found it. Your dear  
love and I, not excluding yourself, must talk, before we proceed any  
further."  
  
Han scratched his head.  
  
"It's fine. You've done well," Makoto offered, as Conroy led them  
deeper into the building.  
  
---  
  
It was cold; Conroy did not seem overly concerned about heating. As a  
cybernetics doctor, who knew how many implants he had within his thin  
shell of a figure? Light seemed to be held at a lower priority as  
well, a single sixty watt bulb supplying for their conversation around  
a circular table of what might have been sealed wood, some lightweight  
alloy, or plastic. She could not be sure. Nor could she care less.  
  
"I can't trust just anyone, you know," he explained after taking a  
brief sip of his steaming coffee. "Not even you, Han."  
  
"Why the frickin' heck not?" the rouge demanded. "Me and you go  
back... way back."  
  
"Look at us now, though. You're the musclehead, I'm the veritable  
cyber-freak." His expression seemed appropriate; a calm, cool one  
which might very well have set in stone at any moment. The vague  
bemusement, however, was gone. Makoto snickered at his directness.  
  
"Yeah, so?" Han retorted, not quite comprehending.  
  
"Remember when we were approached by the Shi-Con underground market?"  
  
Han nodded deftly.  
  
"Yeah. I wanted..." his voice fell.  
  
"You wanted to be the big knight defending the damsel from the dragon  
- or in this case - society's counterpart; the media. Not to mention  
the girls that went along with it." Conroy punctuated his sentence  
with a smirk. "As a result, only I accepted what they presented to me.  
It's very difficult to accept the Coalition's knowledge stifling  
ideals." He took a breath. "Simply put, the difference is this; even  
Shi-Con doesn't trust you with every ingredient boiling in their  
stewing pot of a company. As an employee, even of the elite sort, they  
share little more with me, my friend."  
  
"I guess so." He breathed in the vagrant flavour wafting from the cup  
sanctioned in both hands before taking a short sip. "You're not gonna  
to dump out on me, are you?" An expression of what might be faint  
concern lighted Han's face.  
  
"Regarding anything else; certainly not."  
  
Makoto paused before letting her pre-warmed questions loose upon this  
new fellow.  
  
"So Han wasn't sent to rescue me?"  
  
"Why not ask me that, babe...?"  
  
"Um, sorry..." she glanced at him apologetically.  
  
"Hey it's cool," he replied with a warming smile. "Y'see, I wasn't  
really looking for you... I was looking for any of the... uh, Sailor  
Soldiers. I still think that's frickin' strange name. Anyway, I  
figured that she - uh, well, you, as it turned out - might've gone  
underground, like I would. I mean, it's not safe topside - not like  
that, anyway."  
  
"So it was an accident."  
  
"Kinda," he said sheepishly. "I heard lotsa noise, and figured maybe  
one of you'd escaped from Neo Tech. See, I knew it was jus' one of  
you. But, didn't know which."  
  
Makoto gave Han an acknowledging nod, and turned again to face Conroy.  
  
"What is Shi-Con? Why are they interested in the Bishojo Sailor  
Senshi?"  
  
"The Pretty Sailor Soldiers? For many reasons, few of which have been  
disclosed to me. The first of which is the uniqueness of your power.  
Are you sure you don't want a cup?"  
  
"No, thank you," she negated softly. Her eyes then narrowed. "What do  
they want, to dissect us?"  
  
"Our first objective is to return you home. Unfortunately, the task  
becomes more elaborate as we speak, and largely because we have so  
little information as to your individual whereabouts. As a result, the  
risk of exposing ourselves presents even greater complications."  
  
Makoto considered her words for a moment.  
  
"'Ourselves.' Who is that? What do they want, then?"  
  
"I am not authorized to provide details. Shi-Con Corporation is,  
however, a multi-dimensional company, so our limits are few. As for  
the reasoning, I am afraid they have kept this information from me. I  
imagine because they fear a misstep on my part. You understand."  
  
She pursed her lips, giving his words some thought, then nodded.  
  
"What do you know about my friends?"  
  
"That's the most direct question you've asked since we met," he  
smiled. "Your speculation is correct, and the rumors are indeed true.  
The Coalition State of Lone Star has Ami Mizuno at this point. Rei  
Hino is apparently training as a Fire Warlock in the Magic Zone. We  
have yet to locate Minako Aino, and Usagi Tsukino."  
  
"I suppose you've got people watching them."  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Or at least, we had. Our operative seeking Ami failed in bringing her  
to us before a pair of mercenaries got a hold of the girl. Apparently  
this was shortly after your escape from Atlantis. Certainly a  
remarkable feat in its own right."  
  
It would be a lie to say Makoto was surprised by the lack of emotion  
in Conroy's voice. He was working for an outside force towards an  
objective that only mattered to him for certain reasons, none of them  
emotional, unlike herself.  
  
"So what now? What have you done about Ami's abduction?"  
  
"Our undercover agent, Carl Silver has undertaken the task of her  
safety. He currently poses as a geneticist specializing in the mutant  
properties of humans, in the Lone Star facilities. As such, he is well  
trusted by our opponents, and will not come under any suspicion."  
  
"How can you be sure?" Makoto asked pointedly.  
  
"He will not. To save yourself time, I would accept that as fact.  
Unless of course you are not interested in the lives of the other  
'senshi,' as you call them." Conroy's voice became hard, almost cold.  
  
Makoto immediately reached the conclusion that "Carl Silver" was a  
supernatural being of some sort. A mage, at the very least. A very  
powerful one, to remain undetected by the CS as long as Conroy's voice  
seemed to imply. His condescension irritated her.  
  
"Don't play games with me damnit," Makoto half-snapped. "I'm not  
unfamiliar with supernatural creatures. I have many friends among  
D-Bees, including dragons."  
  
Conroy arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Most fascinating. You are more resourceful than I first deemed you,  
then."  
  
Makoto was tiring of the vocal chess.  
  
"Before Han and I go, I want you to answer my first question."  
  
"Provided that you will return, yes."  
  
"Did you engineer our escape from Atlantis?"  
  
It was obvious to Conroy that to deny what she seemed to believe to be  
true would only inspire a negative response. Not what he was opting  
for. Thus, he seemed to consider his response for a delicate moment. A  
thoughtful finger was placed against his closed lips. It then dropped,  
at which point he spoke.  
  
"Not directly, but yes, we are responsible for your freedom."  
  
Makoto stood.  
  
"That's all I needed to know."  
  
Han got to his feet in turn, and followed her as she exited the room.  
Conroy made no comment, despite her expectation. Makoto did not stop  
when she passed the exiting door of the building.  
  
"Where are you going, Mako? Did he tick you off or something?" Hanlan  
asked, concerned. She halted and faced him.  
  
"No, love, he didn't. I just need time... time to think. Alone."  
Suddenly she was looking to him, asking for time alone, and Han found  
himself hesitant to answer her. There was something in her expression  
which set him at ill ease.  
  
"Mako," he took her hands in his. "I need you..."  
  
Her gaze did not quite meet his.  
  
"I'm not going to run off, if that's what you think."  
  
"Not like before?"  
  
While her words did not betray the raw anxiety she felt, her body did.  
  
"I... you've got too trust me."  
  
He did not, and a single glance told her that. He said nothing,  
fearful the wrong words would slip forth.  
  
"If you love me... you will. I know you do... I can feel it."  
  
Han looked puzzled.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You know I'm empathic, right?" Waiting for his nod, finding it, she  
elaborated. "I don't know why - or how - but I know what you feel.  
Even when I don't try, I know you love me... but..."  
  
"But what?" Tension drifted audibly in his tones.  
  
"I won't leave you, I swear. I know those other girls, even though  
they might have cared for you... they never stayed. I'm not like  
that..." her face worked visibly in nervousness. "Han... do you want  
to marry me?"  
  
Something like relief, amazement, and pleasure appeared on the  
bruiser's handsomely chiseled face. His words did not share the tone,  
however.  
  
"Are you... uh..." :No; he thought, :she's sure. I know it. She  
doesn't say stuff she's not sure of. Not usually: "I mean, we don't  
know we'll ever make it..."  
  
"Exactly. That's something we'll know when it happens." A wistful look  
succeeded the uncertain expression.  
  
:But why?; something asked inside of her. :Why marry him so soon? You  
know what mama would have said. 'Wait a year, maybe two. Then settle  
in, have a dozen babies in your dreams while you give one birth.':  
  
"I never thought... I mean, isn't this a little..."  
  
She smiled.  
  
:What would mama do faced with this? I don't know. But for me, I  
think... I feel more than anything that this is right:  
  
"Yes love, but it's like everything else here, isn't it? Sharp,  
unexpected..."  
  
"Are you really sure? We haven't known each other for very long...  
Aren't you supposed to wait for a year or something?"  
  
Makoto was surprised, and impressed, by Hanlan's emotional chastity.  
  
"We don't know if we've got a year, love."  
  
Han turned over another leaf.  
  
"Isn't this the kinda thing split-ups come from? Rushed marriages?"  
  
She pulled him towards her, pressing against him firmly.  
  
"Yeah, you're right. But don't you think we're stronger than that?"  
  
He 'hmmed' uncertainly.  
  
"Yeah, sexy, I do."  
  
"It's not going to be easy, hon. Choosing to be together is probably  
the toughest thing either of us will ever do. But I'm not going to run  
the first time we fight, and I'll be damned if I let you take off on  
me."  
  
He wrapped his arms around her, loving the feel of her curves.  
  
"Yeah," he crooned. "And I ain't gonna run either. Not from you...  
never."  
  
Without another word, they kissed. It was a long, deliberately  
passionate, lingering kiss, opposed to their first unplanned  
encounter. Makoto found herself feeling rather warmed by the heat  
between them, and felt very much intoxicated, as Han did, in turn.  
  
Finally, they paused long enough to breathe. Neither let each other  
go, holding tightly, as if trying to bond physically. Han felt now,  
more than ever, that Makoto was a fact in his life, and to lose her...  
he did not want to imagine it. Makoto, separately, shared his  
thoughts, realizing that he was the type of man, who, despite his  
violent nature, could never betray her. He was as plain in violence as  
he was in emotion. One might have called him an 'angel at heart.'  
  
"Mako-babe... I'll leave you alone now if you want," he whispered,  
mouth against her ear. She murmured dissent.  
  
"No, please don't. Alone is really the last thing I want to be right  
now."  
  
Silence accompanied them, sympathetic, holding them for a Time in  
solitary fashion, allowing them a brief peace.  
  
"Do you want to go and find someone to get us married?" Han asked, not  
really wanting to let her go, wondering if he ever could.  
  
"Not yet," she replied softly, tightening her grip on him somewhat, as  
if telling him she would never leave. "There's no hurry." 


	7. Temptation Bears a Rarely Steady Hand

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 6: Temptation Bears a Rarely Steady Hand  
  
The Coalition did not support the legal bearings of marriage, since it  
required formal knowledge, which they were not willing to allow the  
public. Nevertheless, even the uneducated masses honored various  
marital systems. Often was included a dowry, though, unlike recent  
centuries, it need not always be offered from the woman's side of the  
bond. Makoto's offering of an exchange of gifts - rather than having a  
formal wedding, in the light of limited time, funds, and guests -  
suited Han just fine.  
  
Makoto decided that a pair of matching rings, which they purchased  
from Conroy, would have to compensate for a legally binding signature.  
The rings, both of ruby in the form of pre-Rifts doves, and silver,  
elaborately formed as vines to encircle the appropriate finger, were  
as much magical as they were beautiful.  
  
Conroy informed his unduly wary friend that it had been Laray's most  
recent venture as a Techno-Wizard, and promised that the rings would  
help them in times of greatest need. When asked, he explained that the  
rings would act as tracers, allowing the two to be instantly aware of  
the others' locale at any given time, as well as allowing greater  
range when using telepathic communication.  
  
Han shrugged in response, thinking little of the latter.  
  
The proceedings took place in Conroy's shop. He professed that he was  
a practitioner of the ways of the once well known Christian Clergyman.  
Hanlan seemed more concerned with Makoto's happiness than any other  
factor, and offered little in the way of verbal obstacle in her  
expressed interest, despite his lack thereof. Never quite the  
religious man, but damned if he was not certain there was a creator  
keeping him alive and sane through the turbulent reality that was  
Rifts Earth, and expressing his gratitude for his meeting and love for  
Makoto Kino in the manner of prayer, something he had never attempted  
before. As she had regarding many other factors of her life, Makoto  
attempted to settle her heart with the knowledge that things could  
definitely be worse. Through everything, she had fallen deeply in  
love, and was about to be married.  
  
Wonders never ceased.  
  
The wedding was not expensive, nor did it have any extended list of  
invited friends. On the other hand, Makoto had not expected to be  
married at all after becoming a Cyber-Knight.  
  
"Do you, Hanlan Ireson, take this woman, Makoto Kino, to be your  
wedded wife, through richer or poorer, sickness and health so long as  
you both shall live?"  
  
For the first time in his life, he actually began to consider his  
actions. Everything he knew spoke against this. It was as he had  
explained to her. He was sure they would come to hate each other after  
too long.  
  
:What would Mom think?; he thought as an uncertain moment drifted  
between the gathered three. :What would Mom say? 'She's a nice girl  
Hanlan.' Is that it? What are we about? I don't know, but she loves  
me. Not because she's weak... but, ah heck, I guess I'll never know if  
I don't do it:  
  
Finally, the words came forth with the warranted hesitance.  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"Do you, Makoto Kino, take this man, Hanlan Ireson, to be your wedded  
husband, through richer or poorer, sickness and health so long as you  
both shall live?"  
  
Makoto scarcely believed she was doing this. A hundred thoughts  
fluttered like a furied murder of crows through her mind.  
  
:What would the others think? Am I making a mistake?: Each time, a  
glance at Han negated that fear. :Mama, forgive me:  
  
"Yes," she affirmed.  
  
"And since there will be no contest by any third party... I now  
pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."  
  
"I was waitin' for that bit," Hanlan smirked as he took Makoto into  
his arms and laid his lips upon hers with all the passion befitting.  
What seemed an eternity passed before their lips parted. Again, Makoto  
seemed half consumed by her passions. Hanlan gazed steadily into her  
eyes, sure that he had made no mistake. Makoto turned quickly to  
Conroy.  
  
"We need," her eyes barely met his. "Well... you know."  
  
Conroy nodded soberly.  
  
"Certainly. I would not trust any inn, however. I have prepared a room  
for you upstairs. If you do not wish to pursue your friends until  
tomorrow, I quite understand."  
  
A faint blush warmed her face.  
  
:We might need tomorrow, too; Hanlan thought.  
  
"Han!" Makoto blurted, her blush only deepening.  
  
Han looked immediately confused.  
  
"Huh? Babe, I didn't say anything."  
  
"Um..." she wondered how much warmer her face could be.  
  
:You must have thought it; she replied experimentally, keeping her  
tongue still.  
  
:Uh, I guess I musta: He took her hand with a smile, hefted her easily  
into his thick arms and carried her upstairs. A sinful grin evoked  
itself upon his face. :This could be interesting!:  
  
Makoto found herself both shocked and excited by the implications. As  
they exited stage left, Conroy turned to his shop, and decided it  
would be best to leave it closed for the next twenty-four hours.  
  
It was going to be a long night.  
  
---  
  
There was no question about it, it had been a long night. On that  
note, it was not quite over yet. Like everything else in Makoto's  
world, her emotions were a stirred mess, rather like a four thousand  
dollar painting composed by a madman. Every thought consumed her, and  
pulled her back to a single pair of questions:  
  
Was their arrival on this future Earth an accident?  
  
What would the senshi do if they should act as a team once again?  
  
The first of the two was the most difficult to answer, for she had so  
little knowledge to fit into it's puzzle. Conroy, and this "Shi-Con  
Corporation" presented a large chance of discovering the executioner  
of the Bishojo Sailor Senshi. Despite the unadulterated opportunity,  
trust was a large - uncertain - commodity. Conroy could be lying  
through his not-so pearly whites. While it was unlikely, it was indeed  
possible, especially when considering the resources and demands of  
such a considerable company.  
  
Though every feeling she could glean from him indicated honesty, and a  
plainness of attitude.  
  
Makoto found herself unable to face the sliver of a chance that the  
senshi would ever become a team again. Pitched with other darker,  
unsettled emotions, tears seem in ready supply. As she mingled with  
the midnight call of the calm outside, warding those forlorn wellings  
was neither something she was able to do, nor cared to. She had shed  
tears in Hanlan's presence before; his harsh nature did not seem to  
halt that. After having had made love to him again, and not in a  
premarital fashion, she felt that it was difficult to share such  
feelings again. Why? He was supposed to be happy, wasn't he? Fielding  
her sadness might only draw him down as well. She did not want to do  
that.  
  
The air was cool on the naked skin of her arms and legs. It was  
mid-spring, so the night was cool enough for a midnight stroll, and  
ideal for this chance for contemplation of her life. The shorts and  
tunic of tan cotton felt comfortable, and eased her mind to some small  
degree. A deep breath revealed a distinct sweetness she had not noted  
earlier. She could only relate the fragrance to the forest around  
them. In her day, in the point of history which contained her birth,  
such an odor was missed. It was as calming to her as the clothes she  
wore.  
  
Despite her efforts, in action and garment, to drop the weights set  
upon her shoulders, she still felt as though she bore their impressive  
girth. Reflection brought the nagging feeling that her act of marriage  
had been one of desperation and survival, as much as one of love. She  
raised her hand and regarded the ring she continued to wear. The  
crimson dove had a radiance, a presence, and she felt it against her  
mind. After a moment of study, and unconscious probing, she realized  
that the presence was Hanlan's elemental mind.  
  
Makoto smiled selflessly; he had expended much effort and energy  
trying to indicate the honesty of his feelings for her through his  
passions. While he excelled in that area, as he had proven, his  
inability to express himself through words bothered her. She felt an  
undeniable need to simply talk to him. As much as the idea came with  
ill ease, she hardly wanted to conceal her misconstrued feelings and  
compunctions from him.  
  
As Hanlan had said, was it not that kind of thing which tore young  
lovers apart? Not taking time to learn about each other, stumbling  
headlong into a relationship in which communication was an unimportant  
factor? But they weren't young, she certainly no longer a teenager,  
just lost, and uncertain.  
  
Funny he should know so much about relationships. "Excuse me, Ma'am,"  
quoth a year-grated baritone of mislaid sounding.  
  
Reflexively, she snapped around to face the intrusion. A male figure  
of aged appearance sheltered in a robe reaching to ground length stood  
before her.  
  
"Yes, what do you want?" Her words were ill considered, and held some  
amount of venom within them; she had no wish to be disturbed.  
  
"I'm sorry to bother you, my dear, honestly. I know something of your  
troubles; I have only recently shed the skin of a long ailed  
marriage."  
  
Instantly his words inspired mistrust. With a fragment of her mind,  
she reached forth to verify him, and beseech any lie which might  
motivate his tongue. Upon finding none, she waited, hands set upon  
hips, for him to speak his purpose.  
  
"I seek only to quell what viral concerns taint your thoughts. Fear me  
not, I mean you no harm."  
  
She removed her hands from her hips, and crossed them - along with her  
arms - over her breasts.  
  
"Who are you? Should it concern you?"  
  
"It does not, to be frank. Nothing does anymore. My single motivation  
here is to share with you a few words that may have saved me many  
pains now well faded."  
  
"Are you a blind man? A beggar? If you want a spare coin, I have a  
few." Her eyes narrowed, gazing upon the somewhat distorted figure.  
  
"Hear me well, child. The mind will conceive lies which the heart will  
follow, for the truth can scar."  
  
:Child?: Her mind whirled. Anger flowed easily to the surface. The  
ring of steel uttered gently as three blades slipped easily forth from  
the back of her hand.  
  
"What do you want, old man?! Talk straight or just leave me the hell  
alone!"  
  
"Aye. I will seek to enlighten you no further."  
  
In a blur of emotional agony, she grasped the man by the collar of his  
robe and dragged him from his feet.  
  
"Who are you! What do you want?!" she demanded in harsh, violence  
overtoned words.  
  
"People are ignorant and childish Makoto; they will believe what is  
heard because it is gentler than the truth!"  
  
With that, the robe sagged, and fell empty in her grip. With a snarl  
on her lip, she cast aside the robe and dropped to her knees, eyes  
closed, hot tears streaming. In an instant, the stranger had made her  
face everything. The truth. They could never be together again! The  
senshi had been scattered to the four winds, and none save a Goddess  
could recover the brilliant shards. Hanlan was all she had! The only  
one she had.  
  
What was hope? A starving babe, scrying with it's failing voice for  
love, for life, for comfort...  
  
Warmth against Makoto's flesh caused her to forget her pain, and  
recall the fury which had surfaced so sharply. As she rose, the cool  
smell and maroon tinted evening had been replaced by a bedroom  
catering an expensive layout and contents. Her tears felt vaguely  
warmed as she wiped them away with the back of her hand. The bed,  
chair, and table all offered a late eighteenth century hand  
constructed appearance. The remainder of the room's pieces, curtains,  
carpets, a shag rug, and Victorian paintings, complimented the decor  
with accent colours of scarlet, and a soft sapphire. The stiff brush  
of stale air across her neck caused her to turn, eyes asking for an  
opponent.  
  
"Welcome, makoto kino. You like? Not that it matters, really..."  
  
Before she could think to follow the source of the voice, a biting  
frigidness wrapped itself about her neck.  
  
"Ki-ha!" Makoto cried with a blurred backhand strike of fist and fury.  
  
The woman chuckled. A charcoal-skinned, silver haired woman of some  
five feet in height adorned in a knee-length dress of cool grey took  
Makoto's hand and drew her forward. The shock of her cool kiss was  
shortly enveloped by Makoto's seething rage at the perverted advance.  
Makoto grabbed the woman by the great lengths of thin hair and pulled  
with such force as to snap her head free from the shoulders.  
  
"How dare you!" she growled venomously.  
  
The woman laughed.  
  
"You're responding very well to this, my sweet."  
  
Aghast, and horrified, she tore the creature lose and threw her to the  
ground. The Darakan female responded by replying an expression of  
wanton lust.  
  
"Ah! The passionate warrior... a reliable source of..." she paused  
long enough to select the appropriate word. "Entertainment. Perfect."  
  
Makoto said nothing, offering only an offensive stance for want of  
combat. The woman slowly rose to her feet.  
  
"I have little time at the moment to play with you, however, so here  
it is: You are now my slave. My name is unimportant. You may call me  
Mistress, Lady, or Love. Enjoy the agency I allow you in this choice,  
for it is all you will ever be granted again." She paused, the reason  
for which Makoto was uncertain, but she obeyed the instinct belaying  
retaliatory action - for the moment. With a dead smile, the  
emotionally severed creature spoke, issuing decrees it seemed she was  
certain would be followed.  
  
"My expectation is that you fight - for me - as a gladiator. That is,  
of course, when I'm not 'working' with you." A sly, dark and slightly  
sundry expression lighted upon her face. "I'll leave you now to adjust  
to this. I'd highly recommend that you forget any former life or love  
you might have acquired. I expect now that you only respond to me, and  
no other."  
  
A seed of hatred was planted within Makoto's very soul that moment, to  
wind - eventually - itself to her heart. The woman approached her,  
expecting her to step aside. When Makoto failed to concede, she noted:  
  
"Of course, you're not trained yet. Fair enough. Move."  
  
"The hell I will you coal-skinned bitch," were Makoto's well fueled  
words. "Release me. You don't know who you're trifling with."  
  
"Oh don't I?" A strictly bemused expression darkened her face. "I know  
who you were. The incomparable - within your power frame, and  
uncageable - until now - Sailor Senshi; Jupiter, and the Cyber-Knight;  
Sliver, defender of the good, the righteous, and the weak. Now, merely  
makoto, my pleasure slave and gladiator."  
  
"Shi-Con will look for me! Hanlan will look for me! You can't hide me  
from them!" Makoto replied desperately.  
  
"Of course not. You vastly overestimate your importance and situation.  
You act as if you have command of your situation. A quaint assumtion,  
my sweet warrior," qouth she, with the regard one offers a newborn  
babe. "Push. fight me. I invite you to do so."  
  
With a grim grin, Makoto drew her right fist back in a dramatic  
gesture, eyes jammed shut, and brought that projectile forth with  
strength enough to crush an ordinary human, and cried out in agony as  
it cracked - slightly - the suddenly stone structure of Marlanda's  
head. Grasping her broken and bloodied hand, three blades twisted at  
it's end, she crouched forward and bit her lip with distracting force.  
  
"You see? Be warned, you will truly regret your next attempt to  
retaliate." She stomped, stone-footed steps, towards the door, and  
said before exiting:  
  
"As for the pain, you will learn to enjoy that soon enough." 


	8. Deliverance. Sort of

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 7: Deliverance. Sort of  
  
Despite the pain, Makoto found herself spending the time given her  
thinking. Her hand was only broken in five for so places, she felt  
vaguely. Gazing at her numbing hand, and the mangled slivers of  
polished steel alloy, she cursed harshly at her own stupidity.  
  
:If it hadn't been a mutation, she would have had a force field or  
something else; Makoto winced sharply, wondering if Marlanda would  
send someone to repair the damage she had done to herself. It was her  
swift, unthinking anger that had gotten her into trouble, and she  
regretted it. Not that she had acted, rather that her blow had failed  
to land. Yet, if consideration could have saved her this agony... What  
felt like hours passed. Finally, she gave in to curiosity and gauged  
the room with her eyes, pacing slowly about like a woman stoned.  
  
:Stoned? Stoned on pain, perhaps; she sighed. :Is that possible? To be  
in so much pain that it's like a drug trip? This could just be the  
start. Besides, I've been hurt worse:  
  
Makoto experimentally flexed her right wrist, flinching as pain  
stabbed through her numb hand, arm and into her shoulder.  
  
:It's not that bad:  
  
A sordid fascination eased into her mind as she watched the blood pour  
slowly through the ports through which the vibro-claws extended. She  
muttered a curse, reaching for the nearest cloth to stifle the crimson  
substance.  
  
"Makoto?" The voice was distinctly male; deep, with a soft, nearly  
undefinable attractive quality to it. Her gaze rose, and fell upon a  
figure her mind stumbled to perceive. She gasped, reality faltered and  
ceased to matter.  
  
"W-who... Um... what... Uh..." each word was a mountain, and ascending  
them was a course of action which was of little consequence. He was  
impossibly attractive, flawless in every visible manner. The fact that  
Makoto did not really prefer redheads hardly seemed to matter anymore.  
His body was that of an athlete; firm, well muscled without the  
failings of extensive girth.  
  
"Oh my..." Makoto found herself feeling light headed, and sat down  
upon the edge of the bed.  
  
"Oh..." Upon his face was a look of welcome concern. Rather, Makoto  
welcomed it. "Are you alright? I'm just here to make sure... if you  
are I'll go."  
  
Makoto shook her head curtly.  
  
"No, don't go..." her voice fell to a whisper. "Don't ever leave..."  
  
He said nothing as he stepped towards her with the soft padding of a  
cat. The athlete facade waned, and in its place fell the hardened edge  
of a war worn man, a soldier, from the frequency of scars upon his  
body.  
  
"Show me your arm? The Mistress told me that you struck her." As he  
unraveled the bed covering, Makoto's heart thudded violently in her  
chest. An inwardly drawn breath drew a clean, pleasant smell from him.  
  
"This is bad. I'm going to have to remove these," he stated softly.  
She just nodded, entranced by his presence. How was a question which  
failed to occur to her.  
  
"Who are you?" she asked gently, noting only faintly a piercing spike  
of pain as he tested the strength and resilience of the claws.  
  
He grimaced.  
  
"This is going to hurt. I'm Chalin."  
  
"Hurt?" she blinked slowly, awareness flickering as a wind-whipped  
candle.  
  
Before she could say another word, a shrill yelp tore through her  
throat as the first of the three blades came free. She flinched back,  
pulling away from him as the fire came alive in her arm.  
  
"I'm sorry... You're bleeding a great deal. If I don't pull the other  
two, it will get infected for certain."  
  
Hesitance seemed to hold him, and a squeamishness which drew Makoto  
somewhat back into focus. She noted suddenly that Chalin bore a  
recently beaten look, which tarnished the brilliant shine of his  
beauty, though only by a small degree. Another nagging point hit her:  
For someone who looked like he was familiar with violence, he  
certainly appeared to be jumpy enough!  
  
"Chalin? Are you alright? Um..." her eyes dropped to his neck. He was  
adorned in a collar much like her own. It became transparent. Lacking  
eagerness for self apparent reasons, she offered her wounded arm to  
him again. He yanked roughly at the second claw, which, with the scry  
grinding of metal, came wrenchingly free. Another cry joined the  
first.  
  
"Hold still, I don't want this to hurt any more than necessary. God  
knows you'll experience enough of it later..."  
  
She squinted at the barely audible statement.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Just hold still." He set the pliers carefully as closely to the back  
of her hand as possible, and with the visible flexing of firm arm and  
chest muscles, the third drew additional bloody blade and a whimper  
from Makoto. She leaned forward, tears of agony welling.  
  
"I'm so sorry! I... I didn't mean to hurt you... Please forgive me...!  
It was that, or the Mistress had commanded me to amputate it!"  
  
:By the Goddess!; Makoto thought raggedly, feeling weak, as though she  
had been summarily flattened by a Great Horned Dragon.  
  
"It's th-uh-the blood luh-l-luh-loss... uhm... L-uh-ie down... um...  
Makoto." His hands trembled, reaching for her, and halted. Supplying  
comfort was something he seemed unable to do. He retracted the unseen  
offer. "Th-uh-the big... uh... pain I-uh, is over nuh-now. I-i... need  
to set y-your hand."  
  
She looked up at him, as she lay back, waned curiousness in her eyes.  
He carefully shifted aside the crimsoned blankets, urging her to  
relax.  
  
"Chalin, why are you scared? I won't hurt you!" she breathed.  
  
It was clear that he expected her to.  
  
"I... Uh..."  
  
He swiveled away on a single foot, picked up a hand cast, a somewhat  
extensive collection of bandages, and some rubbing alcohol. Makoto let  
the subject drop. The primary image of him drifted romantically in her  
mind. She felt, and saw with such definition his purity, and his  
beauty. A furious blush rose to her cheeks as she recalled Hanlan, who  
seemed such a contrast, yet so similar in comparison. His soul was as  
pure as that of her husband, yet Chalin was an obviously cultured,  
properly educated man.  
  
As he cured and bandaged her hand, she felt the sensual nature of his  
touch. Her eyes followed his long fingered, silk skinned hands, how  
they traced carefully the outlines of her fingers, straightening them  
to fit into the cast, setting the bones so as to heal properly.  
Finally, after an eternity of study, of relishing his touch, wondering  
how it would feel to have him touch her elsewhere... another flash of  
warmth added a tint of crimson to her cheeks.  
  
"You're not the first to wonder," he stated gently, calmly, his  
stuttered tongue replaced by the refined calm and ease that permeated  
his touch. A trained mode, she realized with a dull wash of horror.  
  
"Uh..." Makoto gasped. Her left hand found her mouth and covered it.  
  
"It's alright Makoto, if you want to..."  
  
Makoto was shocked.  
  
"No, I... um..." :I can't say yes, even though I want to... It's not  
right! I don't love him!:  
  
"I'm... I'm married."  
  
He smiled. It was a warming, beautiful smile.  
  
"That's wonderful."  
  
His words drew the tension from her. He meant it.  
  
"Chalin... why offer to have sex with me?"  
  
"It would please the Mistress."  
  
"No, no, no no no," she chanted self determinedly. "Never. I will  
never bow to her! I would rather die!"  
  
Chalin spoke, his response so clear it was as through this was a  
conversation he had carried out before.  
  
"She won't let you. She is a very possessive woman. She is also very  
meticulous in keeping her new slaves."  
  
"I don't care! I'll fight her with every last bit of strength! That  
whore'll never touch me... I won't let her."  
  
Chalin had no reply.  
  
"I've fought and destroyed tougher than her," Makoto finished,  
realizing Chalin's state of withdrawal. "Is that it? Is that the only  
reason? You just offered to have sex with me to please her?"  
  
He was silent.  
  
"Have you ever actually loved anyone?" Makoto realized the error of  
the question a moment too late. By then the time had passed to correct  
it.  
  
"No."  
  
She succumbed to the abundant tranquility in sound. Awkwardness was  
shared as the intimate distance between them.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said finally, uselessly.  
  
He stepped back from her.  
  
"No... I am. If there was any reason to make love to you, it would be  
out of love... not just for the Mistress. She will not be pleased, but  
I will accept the consequences on your behalf." In his hand trembled  
the medical equipment, and the shattered strength of a once impressive  
seeming fist. Makoto's mouth opened, but not a word introduced itself.  
What in mercy's name could she say? 'I'm sorry for having morals'?  
Yet, as she gazed at him, she could see plainly enough that beyond his  
pain, and submission, he understood. There was no anger within him.  
  
It was an errie thing, to glance into his tormented soul.  
  
"I must leave. The Mistress will wonder if I linger too long." Then he  
was gone, the white door having shut automatically behind him.  
  
"...the Mistress..." Makoto muttered, lost in thought, before lying  
back upon the lightly blood stained bed and drifting into a listless  
slumber. 


	9. Hatred in Spades

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 8: Hatred in Spades  
  
"So how is she?" an impatient female voice demanded. The white skinned  
being turned towards her in the faintly lit hall. His grey-eyed gaze  
settled upon her, seeming to consider her with little more importance  
than an expressly beautiful specimen of gnat.  
  
"She's a pretty thing, for a human," the plainly male creature  
answered with a faint measure of interest.  
  
She scowled unpleasantly.  
  
"You had best not have laid a hand upon her. I paid extra to see that  
she wasn't sullied!"  
  
He nodded with a vaguely discernible wry grin.  
  
"I haven't. And for the extra bit you gave me, I watched her myself."  
  
Which meant as much as the oath of a dragon to her. A gleam entered  
the creature's eye above the deep grey rim of skin.  
  
"Entertaining she was, too."  
  
Marlanda suppressed a dull shudder. She felt remotely sorry for the  
young woman, having to be submitted to the scrutiny of the inhumanly  
ugly Kidian, and perhaps worse. She gazed upwards at the ten foot tall  
armored creature who looked ready to fight the nearest war.  
  
"And is her training record accurate?"  
  
"Yeah. She takes orders just fine. We even left her outside her cell  
for a bit, under order, and she didn't take off."  
  
Her replying nod was a pleased one. At least she would have no trouble  
with her. It was becoming exceedingly difficult to break in new  
slaves. An immediately obedient one would be a nice change of pace.  
She balked at the thought of the effort she knew she would have to  
expend training Makoto. Unlike Chalin, Makoto did not seem about to  
bow directly. She did not fear Marlanda, yet. Oh well, that would come  
with visitations of Chronos and the vibro-whip.  
  
"Fine. Take me to her then, will you? I'm a busy woman."  
  
A smirk. "I bet."  
  
Under her breath she uttered an unladylike guttural curse. He grunted  
and gestured stiffly with the eyed staff held in his thickly muscled  
arm. Ignoring the voices beseeching freedom, mercy, and similar  
desires, her mind wandered to the image of her purchase in her mind.  
If the description was accurate, Sharla Mysin was a young woman of  
notable secondary physical endowments. She had - as it was recorded  
with indeterminable accuracy - strawberry blond hair which fell to  
waist length, was roughly five feet ten inches tall, one-hundred forty  
pounds, with dark green eyes. She was described as a highly desirable  
creature.  
  
Her mind caught on the calls of surrounding slaves, and the occasional  
slam of metal to itself as the Kidian shouted harsh orders of silence.  
  
"No, you needn't do that. I don't mind it," Marlanda noted.  
  
The guard looked puzzled, decided he did not care, and shrugged.  
  
"Here she is. Cell G3, like you asked."  
  
He manipulated a small panel to the right of the armor sealed door,  
which slid ajar with a faint grinding noise. Without further  
indication, he turned, and leaned against the wall aside the open  
section of wall. Upon entering, the woman inside dropped to her knees,  
head bowed.  
  
"Ma'am," she offered in greeting, her voice soft, like strings of  
falling silk.  
  
"Stand sharla," she commanded with practiced ease. As the Kidian had  
stated, Sharla seemed to easily recognize and act at the behest of the  
dominant personality.  
  
"Yes Ma'am."  
  
Marlanda studied her for a moment. The alterations from the  
description were few: Her hair was a fair sight longer, and she was  
pale, having the appearance of illness. She uttered a dry oath.  
  
"Damn them. sharla, tell me, have they taken advantage of you?"  
  
"Yes Ma'am."  
  
She did not ask in what manner. The thought sickened and angered her.  
That they had was all she needed to know.  
  
"I will have you examined later. I do not desire that you should die  
of some alien malady."  
  
"Thank you," was her gentle reply.  
  
Marlanda fetched a rune encrusted collar from a small bag hung over  
her shoulder.  
  
"Wear this. It bears my rune."  
  
"Yes, Ma'am," and offered no delay in compliance.  
  
A smile turned the corner of Marlanda's lips.  
  
"It suits you. The grey-blue works very nicely. Now, come. I have  
another slave to retrieve."  
  
---  
  
"Ten-thousand credits!"  
  
"Ten-thousand five!"  
  
"A Gideon Mystic Mark is worth more than that! Twelve!!"  
  
"Thirteen!"  
  
"Thirteeeen... I hear thirteeeen-thouuusand. Anyone going to give me  
thirteeeen-thouuusand fiive?" Inquired the spurred voice of a silver  
suited and blue-skinned humanoid figure standing behind a podium.  
  
"Fifty," called a sundry tone.  
  
"Fifty-thouuusand!" smiled the fellow, waving his hand towards the  
voice. "I want to hear fifty five-thouuusand! Will anyone give me  
fifty five-thouuusand?"  
  
"Sixty!" Answered a voice, meeting the challenge.  
  
"Is that it? I bought sixty Portable Holes for that cost! Sixty five!"  
  
"Seventy!"  
  
"I hear seventy-thouuusand universal credits... I'm listening for a  
call of eighty-thouuusand... anyone going to meet the value of this  
prize creature? A firebrand; Manarr, member of a dying race... with no  
fear of death! A challenge to be sure!"  
  
The fellow tugged on his up-to-date suit.  
  
"...Not to mention attractive! This one would make an ideal pleasure  
slave!" His hand fell in the direction of the dark skinned young alien  
woman, a fearful and angered snarl her only reply.  
  
"Curse you to all to hell!" she barked, struggling against the pole to  
which she was bound by hand and foot. Clad in only loincloth and  
half-shirt, she felt restrained as much by modesty as by the enfolding  
of metal at wrist and ankle. Despite her heated and fiery demeanor,  
her physical attractiveness was self apparent.  
  
Of course. It was the solitary reason for which she was on the flesh  
slave market as opposed to the labour.  
  
"Gods damn you all!" she cried, tossing against the chains, hoping in  
vain that they would betray a weakness not recently self-evident.  
Laughs, cat-calls, and hollers of inspired ill-taste and moral vacancy  
withered her retorts after a time. Relinquished to a faint hateful  
expression, she retreated to more pleasant thoughts of grisly anarchy  
as the bidding continued.  
  
"One million," stated the same feminine voice, as in victory.  
  
The crowd of no less than fifty men, women, and other dimensional  
beings fell abruptly quiet.  
  
"One million...?! Uh... going once.. going... oh hell... sold!" barked  
the still stunned auctioneer.  
  
---  
  
"Rune?" prodded a voice with predetermined gentility.  
  
She looked up at him weakly, a faintly wry expression resting upon her  
features.  
  
"From demon to slave," she remarked with a trace of wearied humor. "I  
wonder what Mike would think. But I guess he's got his own  
troubles..."  
  
"Mike is your friend?"  
  
She smirked, sitting with legs drawn to her bare breasts, arms wrapped  
around her knees.  
  
"If you consider a friend someone constantly trying to kill you...  
then I guess so."  
  
Chalin had no remark in reply. She thought for a moment, gazing about  
the room.  
  
"I know I'd prefer that to this. At least I could manage him."  
  
He said nothing. For a moment, she watched him, gauging the core of  
his existence, trying to determine what drove him.  
  
:What was it that keeps him in silence?: She shut her eyes tiredly.  
:No, I got that one down. It's Marlanda:  
  
"Chalin... why do you keep on risking yourself for me?"  
  
His eyes flicked to hers, then away just as rapidly. Annoyed, Rune  
staggered to her feet, grasping at the bandaged holes in her side.  
  
"Don't look away. Damn it Chalin... I don't get you."  
  
"I'm sorry Rune... I..."  
  
"Don't apologize... You haven't done anything wrong." For a moment she  
felt the distinct need to hold him, knowing he could barely stand his  
own fear of her.  
  
"Why...? Just answer that. I need to know."  
  
"I... I felt you coming here. I know you... I..." his voice trailed  
off to a dark timbre of silence.  
  
"What?" she touched his shoulder.  
  
"I love you."  
  
Immediately she was struck by the power of his statement. All at once  
she found it impossible to believe, and to accept. For her entire life  
she had been fighting fearlessly, expecting to expire dramatically in  
battle, and rather hoping to. She took a step back from him, torn by  
her own emotions.  
  
"I... I know..." the words fell from her mouth, and she startled at  
them. As they passed, she began to realize their truth. She reflected  
to the first occasion of their meeting. Marlanda had just purchased  
her and she was being transported to she-knew-not-where. Chalin had  
introduced himself during the trip in the miniature hover vehicle, and  
had expressed his concern for her. Even then he had seemed vaguely  
familiar, and she had felt something between them.  
  
"There's a bath ready if you want to take it," he offered, breaking  
the recollection.  
  
"Chalin..." she started. A glance elaborated his nervousness, and she  
dropped the dire subject at hand, determined to have the whole  
explanation from him later. "All right."  
  
Chalin reached towards her neck and removed the leash cord chaining  
her to the corner of the room. The cord retracted with a pain  
promising sharpness.  
  
Rune Mourndealth was a young woman of considerable stamina,  
intelligence, and beauty. Marlanda had owned her for only a pair of  
days, and she still refused to concede to her. Her insistently lofty  
regard for life included her own, of late. She had been informed that  
she would not die of a racially-spanning genetic mutation, to which  
she was unknowingly immune. Her attitude had altered radically since  
that point, and she fought for her own life as much as that of others.  
  
As she stepped into the steaming bath, she noted Chalin exit  
discreetly. She sighed, bruised, battered, and fatigued. That red  
haired man was a dynamic she would hardly have expected. As yet, he  
had revealed nothing of his former life. Only that he had been a slave  
to Marlanda for five years.  
  
"Oh gods," she muttered, scrubbing two days of sweat from her skin.  
"What the hell have I gotten into?"  
  
She had to discover a way to flee. She knew herself to be far too  
proud to cave in to this violent wench.  
  
"Maybe I can piss her off..."  
  
Of course, if she could had accomplished that by utilizing her talents  
as a skilled fighter, she would have done so. The fact of the matter  
was, the collar, somehow, rendered her physically benign. So if  
Marlanda decided she was going to beat her senseless, then there was  
no point to argue. She snarled faintly. After a time, the unpleasant  
expression dissipated into a serene look as she began to hum a  
familiar folk tune she had learned before leaving her homeworld. Her  
voice was gentle, and had the trained range of a professional singer.  
  
"That's pretty," a voice remarked.  
  
Rune smiled, knowing the owner of the amiable tones.  
  
"Thank you." She stood slowly from the bath, and stepped towards him  
with all the sure-footed grace of a tap dancer. "Did you know I was a  
singer as a child? I've sung before thousands. This self-serving cow  
doesn't scare me."  
  
Realizing he seemed to be deliberately keeping his distance, she  
noted:  
  
"If you love me, Chalin, then why shy away?"  
  
She took the hung towel from the wall and proceeded to dry herself  
with it as she awaited his reply. She honestly expected him to say  
nothing; he seemed apt enough as it stood.  
  
"I'm sorry Rune..." He squirmed as if suspended from a hook. Concern  
lit in Rune's mind, and anger followed sharply behind.  
  
:How could that harlot turn that gorgeous man into a scared child?;  
she thought bitterly.  
  
"We can't take too long, the Mistress will be returning soon."  
  
Annoyance flared once again.  
  
"Why do you have to call her that?"  
  
"It is what I have always called her," he replied her, sounding  
certain of the 'fact.'  
  
"I don't believe that. To me a name is a matter of respect. I have a  
list of things I'll give her before she ever gets that!" Rune's words  
sparked audibly with the passion that fed them. "It's your choice.  
You're so much stronger than she is!"  
  
Chalin looked sour for a moment, then stifled the expression,  
gesturing quietly for her to exit the room.  
  
"How can you..."  
  
"You don't understand!" Chalin snapped abruptly, his voice containing  
a shred of forcefulness never evident. He turned and left the room,  
not pausing long enough for her to follow.  
  
"Maybe not, but I know this isn't right!" Rune replied, further put at  
ill ease. She sighed uselessly.  
  
He said nothing. Rune was sure he had something to put forth, and also  
that there was a restraint of a sort, whether physical or emotional.  
Aware of the futility of an ensuing discussion, she did not pursue the  
topic.  
  
---  
  
"Ki-hi-ha!!" Makoto cried, punctuating the first word with a punch,  
the second with a high kick, and the third with a blurred knife hand.  
Heaving air with unconscious regularity through her lungs, she  
continued, practicing her jan-ken - basic strike techniques -  
determined to beat the living daylights out of Marlanda should she  
return.  
  
A flash of pain threw her left-handed punch aside to knock a small oak  
box to the carpeted floor. Collecting herself, she halted and  
retrieved it, picking up the small crystal which hung from a silver  
chain necklace.  
  
:Who are you?; demanded a female voice through what Makoto recognized  
to be telepathy.  
  
:I am Makoto Kino. Now you can do me the favor of replying the same:  
  
:I am Ellison Cadre. I am the crystal in your hand, which I might add,  
you will lose if I do not repair it:  
  
:What? How do you know that?:  
  
:How is it I speak to you, a mere crystal? Let me heal you.:  
  
:I wasn't exactly refusing; she replied cleanly, gasping faintly as an  
abrupt, but weclome tinge surged through the shattered bones of her  
mangled hand. Within minutes, a remotely normal feeling returned to  
her hand, which she clenched experimentally as she removed the cast  
from it. Mechanism still existed within her modified lower arm, yet  
the back of her hand lacked the ports and the vibro claws.  
  
:Wow... thank you, uh, Ellison:  
  
:You are welcome. Please, if you would sit down, I will answer your  
questions:  
  
She obeyed, still stunned somewhat by the abrupt scewing of events,  
eyes fixed upon the small talisman.  
  
:Uh, first, she's going to notice the wound has healed:  
  
:Let her. She cannot harm you when you wield me:  
  
:Wield you? Okay, slow down. Let's back up. Does she know you can  
talk?:  
  
:No, she has determined me to be a mere trinket.:  
  
:So... what are you, anyway?; Makoto replied with a smirk.  
  
:Yes. Are you familiar with Rune Weapons?:  
  
Makoto's confidence drew to a sharp halt. The very idea of owning one  
had simultaneously shocked and interested her. To be trapped within a  
weapon, sealed for all eternity... The very concept horrified her.  
  
:I chose this; Ellison replied, calming Makoto's response vaguely. :I  
would rather this than die:  
  
:I'm sorry; Makoto offered.  
  
:You have nothing to be sorry for, my dear. Now, you have little time,  
and much yet to learn:  
  
:Why should I trust you?:  
  
:And why not? I offer your freedom. Dare you refuse that? Besides, I  
have healed your hand in a preemtive act of kindness.:  
  
:Hai, uhm, thank you, and no I won't refuse your offer, but... but I  
don't know you!:  
  
:Nor do I, young one. Yet we much trust each other and work together  
if we wish to escape the grasp of your Master:  
  
:My master? The hell she is!:  
  
:Then you agree:  
  
:Damn straight. Fat chance I let this coal-skinned bitch get the upper  
hand again. Okay, so what was that you said about wielding you? You  
some kind of shapeshifter?:  
  
:Of sorts. What weapons training have you?:  
  
:I don't use weapons, other than my vibro-claws; she sighed, :And more  
importantly, my fists. Unless of course its my Psi-Sword.:  
  
:I see. I would imagine your style to be a broadsword?:  
  
:Yep.:  
  
:Curious. You are a Cyber-Knight? A most honorable profession. A wise  
invention of that human, Coake.:  
  
:It saved my sanity... I owe the order my life. Uh... so, psionics are  
my major thing. Magic, I don't get; Makoto stated apologetically. :I  
know its real, and I've seen it, but... magic and me just don't get  
along.:  
  
:You really don't have any alternative, young warrior. It is trust me  
or submit to Marlanda:  
  
:Well, like I said, at least that's not a tough decision. Okay, so  
what else is there?:  
  
:Many, many things. You will learn them as we build a relationship. To  
start, I will never dull, chip, nor receive damage of any kind:  
  
:Fine craftsmanship!:  
  
:Craftswomanship; Ellison corrected her. :I constructed this mystic  
vessel:  
  
:Why? What were you before you died?:  
  
:A dragon, my dear:  
  
Makoto failed to restrain her overt terror, nearly dropping the  
iridescent sliver of light. Trembling, she gazed at the object in her  
hand, saying nor thinking anything.  
  
:You have no reason to fear me, for I am not like the dragons you have  
known. I am most unique, a creature you will likely never meet. I am  
known as an Angel Serpent:  
  
:I don't get it...; Makoto started, still trembling. :You must know  
about the others on Earth then! Why... How is it you're...:  
  
:Trust me my child, even before my mystic encapsulation I would not  
have laid a claw upon you. I have a great respect for warriors like  
yourself:  
  
"makoto!" called harshly a venom-filled voice. A sharp spike of agony  
erupted from her neck to take her body in full, causing her to shudder  
and utter out a rending scream. The crystal fell into her palm where  
it was clenched so tightly that blood ran from where her nails  
penetrated the skin. A pair of slender hands took her by the feet and  
jerked her to the floor, forcing the air from her lungs. She cried out  
in protest, delivering what seemed to be a well placed kick, leaving  
an invisible mark in the air beside her assailant.  
  
:Ellison! Help me!:  
  
:Makoto, you have merely to release me... I will assist you!:  
  
"So makoto, tell me now," she jammed her fist into her gut. She felt a  
prick befitting that of a knife. "Do you wish to refuse me still?"  
  
Makoto tasted blood, and heard a ringing in her ears. Reality still  
held the tangible sense of agony which had been so sharply forced  
through her. Marlanda smelled remotely of an earth-drug she could only  
relate to a smoked narcotic, and also of something akin to alcohol.  
  
Makoto swore heavily.  
  
"I give you two choices," she wheezed. "Let me go, or die."  
  
"Foolish, foolish fighting child," Marlanda sneered, drawing the blade  
across her stomach, eliciting a cry of pain from Makoto. "You will  
regret this day, my love. It is simple. You will be punished for  
this."  
  
Makoto flinched, expecting another searing wound to appear, but none  
did.  
  
"Come!" bid her voice angrily. Makoto simply refused to comply,  
offering only resistance. 'The Mistress' returned, and snarled:  
  
"Have it your way then, foolish girl." A flesh-toned blunt weapon  
collided with her skull, dropping the curtain on her consciousness.  
  
---  
  
"sharla! This is makoto. My orders are simple: Please her, for she is  
to fight for me. If you fail, punishment is assured. Do you hear me  
child?!" Even though the words were faint, Makoto was sure of the  
anger in them. She knew that Marlanda could easily lose her temper,  
and that it would be the key to her freedom.  
  
The strawberry blond nodded fearfully. After a moment, Makoto heard  
the door slide quietly shut. Pain overwhelmed her awareness, fogging  
the world about her into a dull haze. Ellison's words were welcome:  
  
:I can heal you, Makoto. Worry not. And when Marlanda returns, she  
shall die:  
  
Makoto let her eyes remain closed as a warm feeling consumed her. A  
pair of hands laid themselves upon her cheeks, and a pair of firm lips  
brushed hers softly. The long time warrior shook her head furiously,  
and uttered a faint but intense cry:  
  
"No!"  
  
"But the Mistress..." was the reply. The voice was like liquid  
progesterone. A dark feeling of repulsiveness tainted the brunette's  
judgment gleefully.  
  
"Damn it Sharla, get off me!" Makoto took the shapely young woman by  
the shoulder and pushed her aside. "I don't want you! I don't want any  
of this!"  
  
Sharla did not seem to comprehend her words. A motion caused the robe  
she wore to meet the floor with obvious implications. Makoto's eyes  
traveled over the woman, amazed by her beauty, but not attracted to  
her.  
  
"Do I not please you?" she asked, dark green eyes imploring.  
  
"Oh my Goddess," Makoto cursed. "Sharla... How can you do this? You're  
pretty enough to have any guy with half a brain. Why are you..." she  
stopped for the obvious point that Sharla was trembling.  
  
:She was stolen as a child; Ellison explained. :This has been her  
life. I should know, I have been her - protector:  
  
:How? How do you know?:  
  
:I was given to her as a gift from her first Master. Sharla has no  
training in weapons, nor in magic, so I chose not to reveal myself to  
her, offering only unobvious help. Marlanda separated us when she  
bought her:  
  
"Sharla, you don't have to do this," Makoto proffered.  
  
:Ellison, you can't remain a secret. I'm going to have to free her as  
well:  
  
:You and I think in many ways alike, warrior. I will make the first  
move. Clench me in your fist:  
  
Sharla stepped forward, reaching for Makoto.  
  
"I don't understand. This is my life."  
  
She winced internally, :What am I supposed to say?:  
  
:Ask her if she has considered living her own life; Ellison supplied  
helpfully. Slowly, Makoto closed her fist around the crystal, which  
expanded by a silver glow to assume the form of a broadsword of  
remarkable construction and ornamentation. Sharla only seemed  
interested by connotations the blade presented, rather than fearful.  
  
"Have you ever thought of freedom?"  
  
The woman's icewater eyes drifted up to Makoto's, clearly wistful.  
  
"Marlanda would never free me. She is a possessive Master."  
  
"That's not what I asked."  
  
Something held her throat, whether it was her will, or the literal  
presence of the collar, Makoto could not know.  
  
"Tell me."  
  
"Yes." Eyes downcast.  
  
---  
  
To be awoken by a kiss would be a thought for want in Rune's mind  
could she think beyond the brilliant presence of agony. Her mouth  
distorted by a dead scream jammed in her throat, she curled up  
reflexively, scrambling into the corner of walls, away from the source  
of pain.  
  
"Get up!" was the command, harsh among the failing patience of the  
madwoman. The broad shouldered creature drew her would-be slave to her  
feet, and paused not long enough to strike her. Whether by drunkenness  
or sheer luck, Marlanda missed. Rune's eyes snapped wide in sheer  
amazement and uninhibited relief. Chalin, eyes narrowed from the still  
open door, gazed on, hatred shuddering inside him at a violent boil.  
  
"The nerve of you to dodge me!" the banshee declared with a faint  
hiss. The second motion was double that of the first, in power, and  
speed, throwing Rune to the floor.  
  
Firesky eyes and death reflected upon her unpleasant face, and  
Marlanda raised her fists to sever her mortal thread and Phate.  
  
"No!!" his voice matched every protective will borne within him by the  
introduction of this young woman to his life. It was those passions  
which caused his fist to deliver the body of the dominating creature  
to the wall behind Rune with force enough to shatter her skull. Rune  
flinched and scattered from the spray of blood which fled from the  
body of the former Master as it sank to the otherwise unmarred floor.  
  
"Chalin!" Rune cried in horror and disbelief, overwhelmed by the  
implications of his action. Gazing upon him, for a moment she saw the  
man he must have been, his face flushed with fury, his body taut in  
the heat of murder. His grisly, though romantic, visage burned itself  
into her mind before the man of lost self began to return from the  
journey of her salvation.  
  
Running towards him, her eyes spoke volumes where words faltered.  
Accepting her to his finely muscled arms and chest, he said:  
  
"I love you... I couldn't let her..."  
  
She uttered a gentle hushing sound, eyes closed, savoring the moment  
of intimacy, unsure of when she would next be so close to him. They  
had to flee, but she balked at the thought of losing him should they  
part. His voice was gentle, though passioned:  
  
"Rune, we have to..."  
  
Her reply was a nod, for she could summon forth not one word to  
penetrate the fog of emotion which had ensnared her heart. The Phated  
and fearful action dawned, Chalin stepped back, leading her by hand to  
his destination.  
  
"Chalin! Aren't we leaving?" she asked, nonplused by his pause aside a  
door similar to her own.  
  
He shook his head, gaze not quite meeting hers, as his weakness in  
personality bid.  
  
"Sharla and Makoto are here. I was helping Makoto. I must free her as  
well."  
  
The hard scrutiny of the young woman failed to catch his notice,  
unlocking the door, and stepping inside as it opened.  
  
"Chalin?" asked a voice, infinitely genteel. In Makoto's arms was a  
woman struck by the repressed fears of a child, and trembling with all  
their intensity.  
  
Rune approached her, eyes sharp and gauging.  
  
"What's wrong with her?"  
  
The long haired brunette held in her eyes the learned patience of age,  
and merely said:  
  
"It's a long story. Sharla..."  
  
The pinkish blond untangled herself slowly from her, seeming barely  
able to stand.  
  
"Yes...?"  
  
"Stand up. You're free." Makoto stood also, expectant glance given  
easily to Rune, who nodded.  
  
Makoto turned to Chalin, obviously the leader, as the eldest slave and  
most able to determine their route to liberty. In silence, Chalin  
guided them quickly through hall and corridor to what appeared to be a  
launching pad of sorts. Voices of authority joined his indication  
towards the vessel of choice. Weaponless all save Rune and Makoto, who  
wielded her newfound Rune Blade, they fled towards the vehicle in  
question.  
  
Sharla, however, stumbled on her robe, succumbing to fatigue,  
unprepared for the haste with which they sought respite from the moral  
horrors experienced.  
  
"Sharla!" Makoto cried, eyes fallen to the alluring woman, hating  
herself for lack of foresight. "Rune! Cover me! I'll get her!"  
  
While Makoto retreated to the sight of blunder, a squad of ten armed  
troopers trodded up to her, taking her in arm, and stopped.  
  
In mid-motion, partially closed grasp, a punch given but yet to land.  
Unerringly obvious and dubiously impossible. Makoto's senses betrayed  
every accepted logic in her mind. Sound had ceased, aside from the  
thundering of blood in her ears, the heavy drawl of air through her  
lungs, throat and mouth, and every visible object within reach, which  
had halted completely in motion.  
  
"Nice, isn't it?"  
  
Makoto's heart resumed the ponderous ka-thud inside the cage of ribs  
which contained the air she abruptly gave freedom. A step brought her  
to the voice. As the realization of the speaker's identity sank in,  
the color drained easily from the already pale subtle curves of her  
face.  
  
"How did you..." She knew as the words rose that the answer was  
insignificant. "You've been watching me."  
  
"Yes my dear, that is very true. You've been most entertaining, you  
realize." The once heavily swathed ancient smiled inside the facade of  
tooth and hand to replace the latter of claw.  
  
:Yes; Ellison affirmed. :He is like me many tens of centuries past:  
  
"What do you want?" she began, her mind seeking the words which would  
please him as much as assist her.  
  
"You. You interest me. Few women have done that in the last centuries  
I have lived." He paced up to her, examining the hardness of her jaw  
as softness of her curves. "I always select the strong..."  
  
"Like Marlanda? To toy with?" Makoto growled, unable to restrain  
herself.  
  
A firm and sinewy hand parted the silver threads of hair formed like a  
tangle of unorganized webs atop the sun beaten crown of balding skull.  
  
"I don't blame you for assuming that. No, Makoto. I fought once like  
you do now. That was the ailed marriage of which I spoke. I stopped  
fighting for myself." His eyes of a crow's detailing held her. "I no  
longer have that passion. Nor the need."  
  
Makoto said nothing, expecting only an answer.  
  
"Ah! Youth! To have such a delightfully narrow view of life! I would  
cherish it, my dear, for it is innocence, and regretfully, it is a  
creature born only to die. Like us."  
  
Her hard eyes softened, if only to glaze at the point given.  
  
"Why bother then? You said you don't care anymore."  
  
A gleam was fostered in his heart and displayed in his glossy silver  
eyes.  
  
"I don't, not about me, at least. You, and the others, your feral  
sexuality keeps my interest."  
  
:Oh fantastic; Makoto remarked internally, a sour frown on her face  
which the ancient either failed to notice, or enjoyed. Ellison  
unearthed a utilization suited for both parties:  
  
:He will not risk your death. And as it seems he has the power to  
bring you here... why not return you to where you will be safest?:  
  
:But what about my friends?; she replied. :I don't want to go back to  
my home! Not now:  
  
:Where then? Back to the place of your exile? As you will, young  
warrior. It is not my choice, ultimately.:  
  
"Can you send me back?"  
  
He shook his head firmly.  
  
"Not now. There is another who would have your time. Moreover, a quad  
searches for you. One is your friend, the other your husband." A smile  
lit his face. "It was a keen move to marry him as you have."  
  
"Han! Oh hell..." she gasped, eyes wide. "...and who else?"  
  
"Mamoru, and a woman you will come to know as Aaran Yyone. She is an  
apprentice mage and Hormone Juicer of some ten years."  
  
"Mamoru..." she murmured distantly, then "A Juicer?!"  
  
A wry grin appeared on the ancient.  
  
"Why yes!" he chimed delightedly. "Is that a problem?"  
  
Beyond her primed prejudice, she had to wonder favor a Juicer might  
possibly owe her? Though, there was no telling what Hanlan actually  
knew, exactly. He had never denied having friends that were Juicers.  
  
"No... No it isn't."  
  
"Good luck then, my lovely child," he stated with a mind numbing  
gesture of hand.  
  
When her vision returned, she was beset by a landscape of unimaginable  
and delightful beauty. Air-brushed jade plains stretched out beyond  
sight and caring, trees of oil-painted appearance wafted gently at the  
limiting dome of the turquoise sky-ceiling. With a gasp, she realized  
the she was not on Earth.  
  
"Makoto," a voice from behind her demanded softly.  
  
She turned to face a woman no taller than she, yet impossibly  
attractive, making Sharla (for the well formed beauty she was) seem  
homely and nearly asexual. Her waist length slightly wavy hair churned  
easily in the wind. Her body seemed almost bound in the body suit of  
deep blue, and the light long coat of a tamer shade to match the  
former item. Emerald eyes of inconceivable experience grasped hers,  
telling Makoto that she was expected.  
  
"Come," she stated curtly, turning to proceed towards a quaint cabin  
of small stature.  
  
"What...? Who are you?"  
  
"I am Phate," were the words. Makoto felt her ears were deceiving her.  
For she did not pause in her step, so was it not possible that she had  
misheard it?  
  
:No, young one. You haven't. Follow her:  
  
:Ellison...!:  
  
:Just do it. Trust me:  
  
:Okay...: 


	10. Akin to Mage, Akin to Fire

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 9: Akin to Mage, Akin to Fire  
  
"No, I don't agree."  
  
For a moment, he considered her nerve, and just what might be behind  
it. Certainly, she had shown a dramatic natural gift for magic, and a  
rather distinct inclination towards the element of fire. However, she  
had only the most basic training in forming spells, and a very  
rudimentary knowledge of said theory. His scrutiny did not fall to the  
wayside as he inquired precisely what her point was.  
  
"There's more to it than just faith in magic," she began, idly running  
the feathered end of the quill along her cheek. "Faith in the deity is  
what's really important. There wouldn't be magic without the deity."  
  
She glanced at her notes momentarily, realizing just how much like her  
grandfather she sounded.  
  
"Granted," he replied, pacing slowly. "But how will that help you  
focus your mind on the 'impossible'?"  
  
She raised her hand again.  
  
"Yes, Falra?"  
  
"We can't see the deity, normally. There are visions, and other stuff  
like that, but magic is the same. We can't see that until it's done.  
Believing in what we can't see... it's all the same."  
  
"There's the feeling, though," observed a dirty blond haired young  
man, raising his hand, and lowering it as the words passed his lips.  
"You know it's there, the whole thing. Doesn't matter what it is,  
either, each feels different."  
  
"Good, Juan," the teacher smiled. His gaze shifted to the rest of the  
two dozen member group. "Juan has it exactly right. What you feel is  
most important. Magic is very emotionally tactile. Positive spells,  
such as the restorative, tend to have a positive manifestation. Some  
have been aptly described as 'invisible hugs'. This is part of why  
healers tend to be the friendly sort. Oppositely, as most of you  
already know, there are negative magics for the darker aspect of  
people. Summarily, faith in magic, or the deity, however you may view  
it, is supported by these feelings."  
  
He turned and faced the distraught looking student, who twisted a  
collection of short shoulder length black hair in her fingers.  
  
"You are not wrong, young lady. Your approach to spell construction is  
valid as any other. Do not forget that it is not so much the path  
taken, but the result of the direction chosen."  
  
'Shimatta,' she muttered, writing somewhat frustratedly, and adding to  
her newly learned scrawl upon the scroll, despite his affirming words.  
  
"That is all for this week," the teacher announced. "We meet again  
same time next week, as usual. Your only assignment," he continued,  
pausing long enough for the students to settle down. "Is to read the  
local lore records. Now get the heck out of here!"  
  
"Miss Hino?" requested the unpaid educator upon her standing up. "I  
would like to say something to you."  
  
She felt a cold welling in her stomach.  
  
"Yes?" she replied softly, facing him with mixed emotion.  
  
"I realize you are quite gifted, and do have experience in these  
matters."  
  
She nodded.  
  
:More than you would even guess; she thought, concealing her ire.  
  
"I also appreciate very much the spin your faith has on the workings of magic, but try to remember that your surroundings are very different now. Your arguements, while passionate, may serve to confuse others who are young in their understanding of it. Don't focus so much on the method."  
  
"Yes," she nodded half-heartedly. "May I go?"  
  
He nodded, and walked away, shaking his head slightly. He had failed  
to reach her, and could not fathom why. She, on the other hand, knew  
precisely the reason for which she cared not for his words; unserved  
interest. Folder locked against her chest, a frown written upon her  
stern regard, the young man who came to her in the hallway afterwards  
founded considerable nerve in the approach as she half-stamped away  
from the classroom.  
  
"Uh, Falra?"  
  
She blinked, frowning faintly.  
  
:Great, the guy who made me look like an idiot; she snarled in  
thought, not stopping, nor acknowledging his request for attention.  
Her pace became heavier, and somewhat increased.  
  
"Okay," he replied to her lack of response. "Forget it. Seeya."  
  
Instantly she whirled about, feeling badly. She reached out and  
pressed a hand to his shoulder.  
  
"Uhm," she began rather eloquently. "What?"  
  
He faced her, arms crossed, a negative expression upon his simply  
attractive face.  
  
"Look, I wasn't saying 'hey stupid, this is how it really works'. I've  
been a mage for years, and I flippin' well know better. The way you  
see it is right too, for Lazlo's fricken' sake."  
  
She said nothing, not even looking at him. His frown deepened.  
  
"Your attitude sucks," he half-snapped, then turned to leave. She  
gazed after him, not quite knowing what to think. An urge pushed her  
to pursue him, which she ignored at first, but not for more than a moment.  
  
With this thought, she walked rapidly after him, following her sense  
of his comparably high-level aura. He had to be the most powerful mage  
in the whole of the miniscule school. As she reached the men's dorm,  
she realized she had no idea where his room was, and also that she  
could no longer sense that intense aura. Glancing around, she noted a  
green haired girl, who was chatting at high-speed with three others.  
  
"Meiya!" she called, waving at the lithe blue robed girl. She was a  
recently indocturned healer, one who was not only proving her mystic  
prowess, but her social as well. Out of thirty students, there was  
perhaps one who had found cause to dislike her.  
  
The thin-lipped girl smiled widely in reply, muttering something to  
her friends, then walking over to her.  
  
'Hiya Fal-san,' she chimed in Japanese, bowing politely at the waist. Instantly  
Falra recalled that the young woman was of Asian decent, despite her strongly western appearance.  
  
'Hai, how are you?' she bowed, mollified by being able to lapse into  
her native tongue.  
  
'Really good!' she laughed. 'I learned "Ball of White" today. My first  
offensive spell. Not often a healer gets to pick up stuff like that!'  
  
She nodded curtly.  
  
'There are no healing spells for fire elementals like me,' she replied  
with a faint grimace. 'Too bad, I...'  
  
'Iye,' she negated, interrupting her, a friendly snide grin spreading  
across her face. 'There is a healing flame even you can learn.'  
  
Rei smiled faintly.  
  
'So, what is it?'  
  
'Is what?'  
  
She tapped the side of her head, a knowing smirk upon her face.  
  
'You forget very quickly,' she said. 'I'm a minor psychic, remember?'  
  
'Empath. I remember. Um... it's a guy I'm looking for. I was nasty to  
him and... I kinda wanted to say sorry,' she explained, averted her  
eyes slightly.  
  
'You? Nasty? No joke?' she blurted, mock surprise upon her finely  
detailed face. 'It's Juan, isn't it.'  
  
'How do you know?'  
  
'Because he's staring at you,' she pointed behind the dark haired  
mage. 'Good luck, 'cause I'm outta here!'  
  
They bowed simultaneously, and Meiya departed with a warming smile.  
  
"Funny you two should get along," he remarked. "She's so nice..."  
  
"And I'm not?"  
  
He shrugged, his eyebrows pitching up for a moment.  
  
"You're Falra the Phoenix. You know what they say.'  
  
'Yeah, and it's a load of bullshit.'  
  
'Really? What about today?"  
  
She sighed with the weight of emotion resting within her soul.  
  
"You don't know me, so don't think you can make judgment calls. I've  
been through more than you think."  
  
"I don't think anything. I'm just going on how you've treated me: Not  
very kindly. That," he declared, "I can judge as I like."  
  
She folded her arms and turned away slightly.  
  
"And I was going to apologize. Silly me."  
  
"Okay. Silly you."  
  
'By Lazlo'sÉ" she snarled angrily under her breath.  
  
Her eyes narrowed, her thin black eyebrows nearly meeting. While he  
waited, she thought, and after a while, came to a decision. She faced  
him.  
  
"All right," she began soberly. "I'm sorry for..."  
  
"Being a cow?" he filled in helpfully. Her face tensed again, then  
relaxed.  
  
"Yes," she sighed heavily.  
  
"Well, that's cool. I'd heard you never apologize to anyone."  
  
She regarded him seriously.  
  
"I don't."  
  
"First time for everything," he smiled so warmly that the effect  
caught upon her expression, lighting her mind as much as physical  
representation of emotion.  
  
"Come on," he gestured, turning towards the lunchroom. "Buy ya lunch?"  
  
She balked at him, then nodded, warming internally to his pleasant  
attitude. Shortly thereafter, over a steaming bowl of chicken noodle  
soup (it was flu season, after all), she smiled.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Sure, you're welcome," he blinked. "For what? You thanked me for  
lunch."  
  
"I'm kinda stubborn..." she started.  
  
"No, really?" he smirked as he lifted a noodle laden spoonful to his  
mouth. She frown for a moment. "You mean for standing up to you when  
no one else would? I know."  
  
Silence.  
  
"I did it 'cause I think you're as hot as hell."  
  
Her spoon soundly splashed in the large earthenware bowl as a deep  
blush flooded her features.  
  
"Uh..." she gasped, fumbling for the spoon, dipping her fingers into  
the scathing mixture as she stared at him blankly. "Ow!"  
  
Her burnt fingers quickly went to her mouth, then were clasped in her  
other hand. Concern washed over the young man's face as he urged her  
to let him caress the burn.  
  
"I'm sorry," he issued before pulling her delicate hand up and kissing  
the fingers.  
  
"ShitÉ" she breathed tightly.  
  
"Hey, it was my fault, let me..." he said, and in so doing, confessed to  
her, 'no, I'm not perfect.' Within moments of his hushed chanting, a  
tingling sensation banished the superficial throbbing. Politely, she  
pulled her hand away.  
  
"It's better," she told him, a faint warmth in her voice. "A lot.  
Thanks."  
  
"Forgive me?" he tried, not appearing terribly interested in his  
cooling lunch. Numbly, she averted her gaze, and resumed eating.  
  
"Sure. Nice to know you've got good taste," she half smirked. There  
was no point in inquiring after his sincerity. His eyes told her  
plainly that which she needed to know. He was cute, no doubt, but... a  
tad pushy.  
  
:Oh; she thought sarcastically, :Just a little:  
  
In a relatively short span of time, she realized that lunch had ended,  
and that he was gazing at her quite steadily.  
  
"I'm not busy now," he offered, elbows upon the table, hands clasped  
together.  
  
"I am, though," she growled. He blinked at her, almost offended. "No,  
no, it's not... It's Ms. Kayole. She's pestering me to perform a Cloud  
of Smoke... but..."  
  
"But...?"  
  
"Uhm... but..." she stopped, cursing her mumbling mouth. Then, she  
gazed at him firmly, flicking her hand through her hair flirtatiously.  
"Do you tutor?"  
  
Juan found the table of sexual control flipped over quite swiftly. She  
had it, and... he didn't mind.  
  
"Uh," he muttered, as she smiled beamingly, her combination of  
appearance and action having the desired effect. "I do now."  
  
---  
  
The effect was immediate and dramatic. Juan laughed loudly as the  
light grey cloud quickly suffused the circumference of the circle of  
apprentice mages with such speed that the bright haired and compactly  
built teacher literally lost her equilibrium, falling over in a robed  
heap.  
  
:There's your cloud, you impatient cow!; Falra grinned.  
  
"Excellent!" cried Ms. Kayole, waiting for the thick manifestation to  
dissipate before recovering her feet. "Your improvement is exceptional! I am very pleased."  
  
Falra bowed, hands clasped in front of her.  
  
"Thank you, Ms. Kayole."  
  
"'Cissy' my dear, please," she smiled, approaching her and laying a  
hand upon her shoulder as she leaned close. "Lucky girl. He's so cute.  
But you know he doesn't just tutor anyone."  
  
"Oh really..."  
  
"Oh yes! He must really like you... and see - as I - that you have a  
great strength."  
  
He was smiling proudly as her eyes fell upon him.  
  
As they exited the circle, Falra allowing for some distance away from  
the other mages, she turned to him, took his face in her hands and  
laid her lips fully upon his. As they kissed, his hands descended to  
her slender hips. She murmured something as she pulled away, removing  
his hands from her body and taking one of his hands in both of hers.  
  
"No," she decreed softly. "Don't."  
  
He nodded, a sincerely innocent expression upon his clear regard.  
  
"Shoot. Okay. On your word, gorgeous."  
  
She turned, leading him through the hallway toward the large, open  
garden.  
  
"You've been so sweet this last couple of weeks Juan. I was just  
thanking you."  
  
"Hey, I'm not complaining," he replied with an earnest, and honest  
smile. "Maybe we can go further next time."  
  
"Maybe."  
  
Juan felt the tension suddenly surrounding her, like a glimmering  
shield of manna. Gently, he inquired:  
  
"What's up, beautiful?"  
  
"Just because I won't... you think something's wrong?"  
  
"Did I say that? Before you get nasty, stop and think. Please?"  
  
Internally, she reluctantly snapped a leash about the roaring beast of  
emotion that loomed over her sense of hope.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Forget it. Not your fault. It's been a long week."  
  
She shook her head minimally.  
  
"That's not it."  
  
"I'm all ears Fal," he offered, pushing only slightly.  
  
The fact that someone actually cared, in a more intimate sense than  
she had ever previously understood, brought a wash of brief serenity  
through her being, and into her shining eyes as she beheld him. Yet,  
as memory beckoned, her expression darkened.  
  
"I think I'm falling in love with you," she admitted rather  
selflessly.  
  
"Great! Me too."  
  
She chuckled despite herself.  
  
"What's that 'but' expression for?"  
  
Her hand squeezed his, emotional need tearing through her young soul.  
  
"Before, um... we get serious, we kinda need to talk."  
  
He glanced at her with stark curiosity.  
  
"'Kinda'? Sounds major."  
  
She wrapped her arms about his.  
  
"It is."  
  
"I'm all ears," he offered.  
  
"No, no, not here. It's... can we go to your room?"  
  
He suppressed a smirk, knowing what he had in mind was quite distant  
in interest from hers.  
  
"Sure. Anytime."  
  
"Now."  
  
He shrugged.  
  
"This way."  
  
As they proceeded in silence, she admitted something that made Juan  
wonder, to say the least.  
  
"I'm a D-Bee."  
  
"You mean you came through one of the Rifts?" he started, not stunned  
as she might have thought him to have been. "I thought only freaks,  
demons, and mutants came through those."  
  
"I didn't exactly have a choice," she muttered.  
  
"Hey, I'm all ears, y'know that."  
  
Without a word she hopped onto the bed and sat, legs crossed as he took his usual place in a customized chair. That is to say, a comfortable but haphazardly  
cushioned thing.  
  
"I was kidnapped..." she began.  
  
---  
  
"If I wasn't a mage and..." he chuckled, "who I am, I wouldn't believe  
you. But I do."  
  
"I wasn't sure you would," she replied, arms folded over her chest.  
  
"Why not? I mean c'mon, they're Rifts. At least it was something  
worthwhile, like you, that came through one for a change."  
  
"Thank you Juan," she smiled gratefully. "But it wasn't that simple!  
It's not like we were sucked in by a mystic vacuum or something.  
Someone - something - sent that flaming lion after us."  
  
"Okay, I'll buy. What does that mean for you?"  
  
"I... I don't know what you mean," she gazed at him blankly.  
  
"Do you know what you're going to do? Sounds to me like you care about  
your friends alot. You're aren't giving up, are you?"  
  
Her wandering eyes locked to his, face abruptly tensed.  
  
"What?"  
  
"On them. Your friends."  
  
She averted her gaze.  
  
"No, that's why I'm training to become a Walker."  
  
"I'll help."  
  
She peered at him vaguely.  
  
"You already are."  
  
He spread his hands, palms up in a brief motion.  
  
"Sure, but I mean in finding them. I know people. It might take a  
while, but hey, I don't think you'll mind my company?" he grinned  
assuredly. Rising from the chair, he approached her, and paused as she  
negated him for a moment, before wrapping his arms about her. His lips  
found her forehead, and she sighed, emotions swirling in her soul.  
  
"No. I can't ask you to risk your life for me."  
  
"But you're not asking," he uttered with that ever-calming confidence  
which inspired his being. "I'm offering, and hell, I'm not gonna watch  
you suffer, 'cause it sucks to see you like this. You said you were  
falling in love, gorgeous? Well so am I..." 


	11. Temper of Fire, Hands of Steel

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 10: Temper of Fire, Hands of Steel  
  
"Why can't I sense anything?" she asked, purple eyes squinting into  
the translucent blue energy clearly visible before her in the  
darkness.  
  
"Give yourself a moment to adjust," a brown robed figure said.  
  
She stopped.  
  
"What is it Rei?"  
  
She glanced at him, "Juan, I asked you not to call me that!"  
  
"Sorry gorgeous."  
  
"That's okay," she replied somewhat absently. Her eyes swept the  
valley which the small cliff overlooked, her gaze ponderous, alert,  
searching. Her voice came to his ear hushed, as if she feared being  
overheard by someone, or something; "I do sense something."  
  
"Didn't I tell you?"  
  
"Yeah, you're right... but I sense something else." Her words turned  
harsh again, "Don't give me that look! I don't know what they are!"  
  
"Damn Fal, I don't know either!" he snapped in reply. "You don't have  
to yell at me!"  
  
She grabbed him by the shoulder of his robe, pulled him over to her,  
and made sure he was within arms reach.  
  
"This was your dumb idea, you cute twit. It's not safe, we shouldn't  
even be here." She guided him to edge the cliff, where a section rose  
like a protective shield. They sat down behind the relative safety of  
the stones. He took several calming breaths, realizing why she was  
being so argumentative.  
  
"Falra, would you calm down for a sec? We're safe, this is pretty well  
neutral territory. The Coalition is a long ways off."  
  
"I'm sorry," she sighed, pressing a hand to his shoulder, and  
frowning. "I've never been to a nexus before. I didn't realize they  
were so big!"  
  
Indeed, massive glowing lines of blue psychic energy, some three  
hundred feet high, wavered and shimmered in the cool night, as if  
swayed by some otherwise ineffectual wind. Where they crossed, a  
towering oval of loudly crackling energy formed, very much like the  
portal...  
  
-'Jupiter no!'-  
  
Usagi!  
  
...that had brought them here. Images flooded her mind. Where they had  
arrived after the portal had closed. The lion had gone. Why? She still  
failed to understand that. The strange floating ship, the blind women  
aboard it. Why did they not retaliate against the Splugorth? Again,  
another answer which was beyond her. She shook her head. Thoughts of  
Atlantis, death, and slavery, made her shudder.  
  
"Amazing, isn't it?" Juan breathed, holding her shoulders as they  
gazed at the incredible swelling of energy.  
  
"Makes me wish I'd finished my Line Walker training..." she  
half-whispered.  
  
Dully, she stared at the fantastic manifestation, her mind  
transporting her to a place much safer, and more forgiving than the  
savaged Earth upon which she now lived. The power of the massive ley  
lines made her entire body tingle, a powerful rush moving through her  
slender frame. Never before had she felt quite so alive! As Juan  
observed the tiny spots fly through the great portal, he found his  
memory faulter in attempts to recall just what the heck they were.  
  
"What are they..." he muttered, frustration beckoning.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
Juan looked serious.  
  
"Look," he said, pointing towards the portal. "I think the leader, the  
queen, or whatever, is coming through the portal."  
  
"Are you sure, Juan? I don't see anything," she squinted into the  
light of the dimensional doorway. "Wait, no, you're right, I do see  
something..." Carefully she watched as a larger humanoid insect came  
out of the portal. It looked as though the creature had skin made up  
in plates, like armor, or was it an exoskeleton? She could not be  
sure. As she watched it fly through, she noticed that its abdomen was  
much larger than the others of its kind. It reminded her of a queen  
bee, from her homeworld. A pang of homesickness struck her. After a  
time of study, she realized abruptly that the queen-bee creature was  
looking back at her.  
  
She cursed.  
  
"We've been seen! It knows we're here!"  
  
"Oh hell," he said, not wanting to believe that they were in grave  
danger.  
  
"Run!" she grabbed him as she turned to act upon her word. He uttered  
an oath, and hurried to catch up to her. Her long black hair flew out  
behind her as she ran. She threw a glance over her shoulder.  
  
"We're not going to make it!"  
  
Juan could see the hovercycles in the distance, and judged that she  
was right. If they had left a few moments earlier perhaps they might  
have had to start their engines. At that point, they would be just  
short of reaching their means of escape before the creature caught  
them.  
  
"We need a distraction!" she called out. "Any ideas?"  
  
"Well if I can just get a sec to cast a spell..."  
  
A myriad of spotlights lit the sky, announcing silently another  
distinct presence.  
  
"Oh beautiful," Juan quipped. His eyes widened in alarm. "Duck!"  
  
"Huh?" was her startled and stunned reply.  
  
As Juan fell face first into the dirt, he reached out with a hand in  
hopes of dragging her to the ground with him. Via a combination of  
tripping over an unseen stone, and being grabbed by Juan, Falra found  
herself painfully winded as the ground came up to greet her by  
smacking her soundly on the forehead. Juan heard the low rumble of  
what he recognized to be jet engines as they flew over him, tossing,  
tangling his short hair, and rippling his robe as the violently  
expelled exhaust pushed at the two of them. He spat dirt, and crawled  
over to Falra's fallen form. He pushed at her shoulder gently.  
  
"Rei?"  
  
She groaned and coughed. Her wildly disheveled hair lay in the dirt,  
twisted and mangled. She put a hand to her head as she turned over, a  
dull throbbing washing through her skull. She did not speak, mainly  
due to her struggle for air. Once she found it, she croaked an effort  
at vocalization.  
  
"Wha- What was that?"  
  
"SAMs," he said, sounding defeated by a battle she did not even know  
they had been fighting. She lay there, not trying to move, and gave  
him a quizzical look.  
  
"The Coalition."  
  
As if to make a point of their presence, a lone 'Smiling Jack' SAMAS  
approached the two of them. The winged armor landed, and waved a gun  
in their direction.  
  
"Get up," a deep voice said behind a very prominent metallic grin, the  
namesake of the power armor.  
  
"Come on," Juan whispered, "numbnuts here won't take kindly to  
argument."  
  
"We can handle him," she snarled, lighting beginning to manifest  
within her clenched hand.  
  
"No, don't. Not yet, anyway."  
  
"Get up!" the 'Jack snapped impatiently, and threateningly.  
  
"Wait until I say 'when'," he ordered in hushed tones, helping her up.  
Once on their feet, Falra winced when she set her weight on her right  
foot.  
  
"Hurt bad?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"I think it's broken."  
  
"Shit," he sighed.  
  
"What are you to doing here?" the 'Jack demanded.  
  
Juan gazed at the armor with his best false cock sure mask.  
  
"We heard a loud buzzing, thought it might be a good idea to check it  
out. You know, D-bees. Thought maybe the good Coalition might want to  
know about it."  
  
With a pair of mechanical whur-thwumps, the darkly smiling armor  
stepped towards them.  
  
"Your ID. Let's see your ID."  
  
:So it's not just the grin that's stupid; Falra thought sardonically.  
  
The bravado quickly fled Juan Nathan Iridian.  
  
"Would you believe we left them at home?"  
  
There was a dull click.  
  
"Didn't think so." Juan muttered something under his breath, then  
dropped a magic net on the grinning idiot armor. "Falra, let's go!"  
  
Falra hung frantically on to Juan with one arm as they fled, trying to  
reach the...  
  
"They're gone!" she gasped.  
  
"Halt magic users!" another commanding, deep voice demanded. "Halt or  
die!" Two larger Super SAMAS armors stood at the site where the  
hovercycles had been.  
  
"I'm sorry Rei," he apologized uselessly in hushed tones, "If we get  
out of this alive, I'll make it up to you. I..." His voice fell  
silent, lacking words in the seriousness of the situation. Falra  
merely nodded, her head at his shoulder.  
  
"I guess you can drop Falra," she noted just as cautiously. He started  
to speak, but she did not give him the chance.  
  
"Wouldn't be good for the kids, right?" she chuckled faintly, pain  
creasing her brow.  
  
"Well, well," one of the grunts in the armors said with a hint of  
false pleasure. "What've we got 'ere?"  
  
The other SAMAS turned to the first.  
  
"It looks like th' D-bee girl we been searchin' for," the second  
stated with a laugh in his words.  
  
"I don't s'pose they'd mind if we played wit' her fer a bit?" the  
first asked the second.  
  
Rage poured through Juan as his mind registered what they dared  
conjecture. Rei gasped, stunned by the flow of power from his flaring  
aura.  
  
"Not't all." The first seemed to ponder something. "What 'f," the  
first dropped the supposition.  
  
"What?"  
  
"What 'f she's too inhuman for us?"  
  
"No!" Juan screamed, a swirling silver light encompassing the two  
young mages as he did something unique to his class:  
  
He winged it. No spell in store, no wit in summoning, just a sharp  
blast of white energy, which tore into the first of the two robust  
armors, knocking it aside with a deep, male grunt.  
  
"You won't touch her, not if I..."  
  
"Oh shut up!" bellowed the second, a multicolored bolt reducing Juan's  
head to particles. Rei fell away from the sudden corpse, and collapsed  
into a shrieking heap.  
  
"You too hussy," the armor grunted, slapping her softly. A large red  
welt formed across the side of her face. "Hey Joel, you cool?"  
  
"Yeah, cool," he replied as he got to his feet. "That jerk hit hard,  
but I'm still kickin' shit. I tell ya, I like these new PAs!"  
  
"Ain't they sweet?"  
  
"Oh yea. So, who first? Oh man she's gonna be a great piece of  
action..."  
  
"What... she's out! Are you really gonna..."  
  
"What's she gonna do, wake up?" the first laughed. "You're bloody  
paranoid, Dallas. Witch bitch won't be casting nutin' when we're up in  
her..."  
  
There was a hiss as the back of his armor opened. The noise was muted  
by the short deep air cutting sounds of helicopter blades. A small  
spotlight lit the collapsed figures, and reflected off the glossy  
darkness of their armor.  
  
"Report!" a loudspeaker voice rang.  
  
"Emperor Prosek! Sir! We captured a D-bee sir!" the second replied  
frantically, his fear keeping him from error in words.  
  
"Ah, so I see. And the other?"  
  
"Tried to kill me sir!" the first armor snapped off as his armor  
hissed closed.  
  
"I see you dealt with the creature appropriately. Good. Take the  
corrupted one and report back to Headquarters."  
  
"Aye sir!" they agreed in unison.  
  
The first sighed as the spotlight and the sound of the helicopters'  
presence faded.  
  
"Damn!"  
  
"That was close. Well, lets get busy. I can't wait to get a taste..."  
  
"No," the first Sam said, sounding angrily disappointed. He turned to  
the body of Juan, and fired off a quick round. The body dispersed into  
the air, vaporizing in a thin burst of smoke. "You know what happened  
to the last guys who ticked him off, right?"  
  
"Uh..."  
  
"So shut yer damn trap and grab the D-bee hussy," he snapped.  
  
---  
  
When Rei awoke, the first thing she felt were broken bones. Or rather,  
the bonds that held them. They had not set her broken leg, there was  
no support for it, they had merely tied her to a chair, unsympathetic.  
  
:Why should they care?; she thought. Her hands were bound behind her  
back. Useless. She also felt something around her neck. It was cold,  
metallic. A collar was her first thought. Then; :why?: Movement was  
limited to her head and shoulders. She felt a wetness on her cheek.  
  
:Tears?:  
  
She remembered suddenly the grinning armor and the tornado of manna  
which slammed the first of the threatening armors aside like a tinker  
toy. Juan had been so protective, and she had felt so safe in his  
arms, as if nothing could touch them....  
  
Yet something had, and now she was alone again.  
  
"D-Bee," said a voice. There was a click, and suddenly lights were  
upon her, blinding her. She wished she could shed her robe; the lights  
were so warm.  
  
"Hey bitch," demanded another voice. A hand appeared from the  
darkness, collided with her face, then disappeared again. "Answer the  
man." He stressed the word; man.  
  
"Wh-wha..." she gasped, feeling her splintered lip pulse sharply.  
  
"You got a name there, D-Bee?"  
  
Silence. A stocky man stepped out into the silence, and the light,  
then hit her again, palm open.  
  
"Every time I don't get an answer, you get another one of those," the  
voice from behind the lights said. "Okay, let's start from the top..."  
  
Rei kept her split-lipped mouth shut as she jutted out her chin  
defiantly, a clear expression of hatred souring her features.  
  
"Get vaped, losers," she snarled.  
  
"You're not very smart, are you," qouth the voice as the hand snapped  
against her face again.  
  
That was not a question.  
  
"What are you called?"  
  
Silence broken. A whimper.  
  
"Uhh..."  
  
"No, clearly no intelligence here," the voice stated coldly. "What do  
they call you?"  
  
Silence once again.  
  
"No name? Really?" Followed by a gesture, and the taste of blood. "Too  
bad. You know what? 'Bitch' sounds pretty good to me."  
  
"It fits. She's a real tough Bitch. Real quiet, too," a more robust  
tone growled as she felt a closed fist make her head snap to the side.  
  
"Uuuhk...!"  
  
"That's enough," the voice said, "let her fry for a while."  
  
They were all too soon gone. The lights did not relent their warming  
stare. She was sweating, close to tears, all hope fled. After a time  
of silence, she heard a barely audible hiss. The lights went out.  
Falra flinched numbly when she felt a cool cloth dabbing at her face.  
  
"Uhh!" she grunted, at first unable to think to speak, or to make her  
sore mouth obey.  
  
"Hey there," a cool voice said. This one was different, it had a calm,  
trusting tone. "How are you doing, Rei?"  
  
"Huh-h-how do you know my name?" she whispered, mollified.  
  
"I'm a friend."  
  
She was silent.  
  
"I know you can't really trust me, but you're in no position to refuse  
any help I offer. For Your Information, I have as much an interest in  
your life as I do that of your friends." He wiped the blood from her  
lip, and pressed a finger to it.  
  
"Yes I know about them. We've found Minako, but we're still looking  
for the rest of them."  
  
"Are...' she swallowed, tasting unpleasantly sweet blood as her tongue  
worked at the unusual mass of her split lip. "Are you going to free  
me?"  
  
"I can't, not just yet. I need some time. In a couple of days I'll be  
able to, once I've got the people I need." She felt something, a vial,  
pressed against her lips. "Drink this."  
  
Rei hesitated.  
  
"It'll dull the pain. I'd give you something stronger, but they might  
suspect interference if you don't react. I'm sorry."  
  
Understandably reluctant, she hesitated several moments before  
deciding to trust him. Once there, she realized she was thankful for  
any help, at that point. She tipped her head back slightly as he held  
the vial. She breathed a slightly pleasured groan at the cool soothing  
liquid warding the burning in her throat. As he stood to leave, a  
warmth gradually fogged her mind.  
  
"Wait," she said, "what do I..."  
  
"Silver," he replied, still cool as ice. "I'll see you in a couple of  
days."  
  
Only moments later did the two men return, with their words and  
violence.  
  
"Okay, let's start from the beginning..." 


	12. Hell In A Needle

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 11: Hell In A Needle  
  
When her eyesight quit on her she was not sure. All she felt was the  
searing scars of pain. Since they returned, she only vaguely recalled  
the questions they asked. Names, something about names... A name? She  
groaned, unable to move as she lay face first on the white floor. They  
had wanted to know about someone. Who... Her? What? They finally  
called her a name. Mostly curses, angered, taunting words. Where did  
she come from? Who was she with? Who was her boyfriend?  
  
Juan was not her boyfriend. Not anymore!  
  
:Oh Juan...: Tears failed for lack of strength. :What happened?:  
  
Who taught you magic? Who taught you. Was it Lazlo? Are you a criminal  
of the State? Yes, you are. Never forget that. Never.  
  
Finally she lost consciousness. Even then, the words rang in her mind,  
in her dreams. She screamed at them, and managed to avoid the striking  
hands. Darkness consumed them. The darkness gave way to light.  
  
Pain flared in her stomach.  
  
"Wake up, Bitch."  
  
She scrambled away from the source of the pain, gasping. Something  
caught her hand. Her eyes opened, perceiving distorted images of a man  
dressed in white. She also saw a pair of black towers behind him. No,  
those where men too. She felt a pulling at her arm, dragging her to  
her feet. She stumbled, still half blind, one eye swollen shut.  
Clothes were a thing of the past; they had relieved her of them before  
the beating.  
  
"Come on!" he cursed. "We want you to see someone."  
  
Rei was afraid to ask, even if her throat had not been too dry to let  
her. She just followed him, stumbling, and falling twice. Some doctor  
had come in and set her leg, so she could walk. Every step brought a  
new variety of pain to her already beaten form. She wished she could  
remember the doctor's name. He had been so nice.  
  
:It was... was... Dr. ... Silt... No, Silver. Dr. Silver: He had not  
said anything, but he'd smiled. The smile felt familiar. :How...? I've  
never seen him before! He was so gentle...:  
  
"Hey Bitch," the man snapped, pulling her forward with a jerk. "Keep  
up, will ya!"  
  
Rei flinched. He grinned.  
  
"They got ya pinned real good, huh," he laughed callously. He stopped.  
  
"Well, here we are, Bitch!" He jabbed a series of buttons. "Go on."  
  
He pushed her through, after which point the door closed automatically  
behind her. Rei fell forward and landed on her face. For a while she  
just lay there, not really caring who it was they were talking about.  
Finally, she staggered to her feet. Her eyes blurred. Adjacent to her  
was a girl, shorter than she. She wore the same as Rei, a collar, and  
what appeared to be a band of metal strapped to one hand. The other  
arm looked somewhat strange, a little discoloured, but Rei took scant  
notice of it. She was slight of build, had harsh blue eyes, and  
shoulder length blue hair.  
  
"By Lazlo's good name!" Rei muttered, her voice cracking. "Ami!" she  
cried, finding strength to run towards her. Rei hugged her, and the  
girl just looked... confused.  
  
"Well aren't you friendly!" she said. "Have we met?"  
  
Rei froze, emotionally as well as physically.  
  
"You don't remember me Ami-chan? I'm your friend, Rei!"  
  
"Ami-chan? I ain't heard that name before..." she blinked. "You do  
seem awfully kind, but... no, I don't think I know ya." She gazed down  
at this strange black haired girl. "Oh my!" she said, voice sounding  
shocked. "What've they done to ya? Poor girl."  
  
Rei dissolved into tears.  
  
"My name's Sarah," she cooed, holding Rei gently. "Sssh darlin', I  
know. I know what they did. It's gonna be okay."  
  
Several minutes passed while Rei cried. Hope, after the last night's  
beating, had fled into some distant shadow with her only seeming  
friend; "Sliver." Even with his actions of the night before, and the  
meticulous binding of her shattered leg, she trusted him about as much  
as she did a rogue Fury Beetle. Sorrow welled within her, for living  
to see the next day had become suddenly a very uncertain thing.  
Slowly, her tears ebbed, and she calmed.  
  
"You going be okay now?" Sarah asked. Rei looked as if she had been  
asked if she would survive the world ending. She shook her head, and  
said nothing.  
  
"I'm sorry I don't remember ya. Ya seem so nice. Were we good  
friends?" She seemed genuinely curious.  
  
"I don't know. I might be wrong," Rei said as she stepped away from  
her. "She and I were, yes."  
  
:This can't be right. Carl said it was her... but they almost look  
nothing alike!; she lamented in thought alone.  
  
When she went to put her hand on her shoulder, she noticed a split in  
the skin where Sarah's arm visibly joined her body at the shoulder.  
Under it was...  
  
"Oh mercy," she whispered.  
  
... the cold sheen of metal.  
  
Sarah seemed to barely notice Rei's reaction.  
  
"Oh yeah, my arm. Nothing special, just prosthetic."  
  
Rei was frozen, not moving, not even breathing. Sarah took her by the  
shoulders.  
  
"Hey. You okay?" She shook her slightly. "Darlin'?" Sarah shook her  
again. She swore, then drew her hand across her face in a quick  
motion. Rei gasped, eyes jammed shut for a moment.  
  
"Better?" Sarah asked, studying the black haired girl's swollen eyes  
carefully.  
  
Rei sank to her knees and sat down, head bowed. There was a hiss as  
the door opened. A man in a white lab coat, and a black armored grunt  
entered. The man gestured for the grunt to wait. He approached the  
two. Sarah snarled protectively, noting the needle in his hand.  
  
"No, no, it's me, Dr. Silver. I'm just here to give you your shots,"  
he said reassuringly. Rei's head snapped up to him. She mouthed the  
words; 'You helped me,' and smiled slightly.  
  
"That's right," he crooned, "this'll just take a second."  
  
Rei put up as much fight as her strength would allow, which was not  
much. He kneeled close, as if he was holding her down.  
  
"I can't stay, they suspect me," he whispered, "I promise you, I'll be  
back as soon as we can shift the blame."  
  
Sarah also feigned putting up a fuss, but eventually took the needle.  
Then, with a snarl, she pushed him roughly towards the grunt. He fell  
against the armored guard, who cursed.  
  
"You bastard human," Sarah snarled at the doctor as she got her feet.  
Something told Rei she enjoyed playing the feral aggressor.  
  
Play along, her gaze told him for not much more than an instant. She  
snarled and leapt at the grunt, who knocked her aside. Dr. Silver  
cried out in mock terror, and pounded at the door. Rei lay there  
crying, listless, and lost. Sarah continued to snarl at Dr Silver, who  
appeared to be scared out of his mind as he scrambled against the  
door, hoping to claw his way out.  
  
The grunt punched in the door combination as he eyed the Amazon  
warily. The doctor flew through the door like it was the pearly gates,  
leading to his salvation. The grunt seemed in no hurry to leave. Sarah  
decided he needed some convincing. She dove at him, aiming to wrench  
the weapon from his black gauntleted grip. At the last instant, the  
grunt stepped aside. She sailed into the wall, face first, her nose  
snapping like a thin twig. As she impacted, she felt a jolt of pain,  
and a numb sensation began to spread through her back. She felt limp  
to the ground, paralyzed.  
  
"That'll teach ya," the grunt chuckled.  
  
:If I weren't so weak, he'd not've hit me!:  
  
Sarah's mind fogged as she watched the grunt approach Rei, still  
consumed by her tears. The grunt raised the mace, and Sarah found she  
could not get her voice to work. She could only watch as he stunned  
her, and carried her off over his shoulder.  
  
She feared for that kind girl.  
  
---  
  
"Careful, careful!" he cried. "I don't want any unnecessary bruising!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," the grunt replied, letting her fall with no particular  
care to the examination table. "Do ya really think I give a flying  
frick? You do yer job, I'll do mine. Okay?"  
  
The doctor's scrawny features assumed an unpleasant expression, making  
him look like a dissatisfied vulture.  
  
"Moron!" he snapped. "I ask for elite guards, and what do I get?  
Simpletons like you!" he almost spat at the grunt.  
  
"Listen you," replied the black suited grunt grumpily. "I didn't ask  
for this lousy job, so why don'cha just mind yer own crap!"  
  
"Oh go on, haven't you got a Dog Boy to associate with?"  
  
The grunt departed, muttering something about apes and the doctor's  
mating habits.  
  
"Philistine!" the doctor croaked as the door slid smoothly shut. He  
shook his head and sighed, muttering curses under his breath. As he  
neared the young woman the grunt had unceremoniously dumped on his lab  
table, a smile began to warm his face.  
  
"Why... Aren't you a pretty one," he observed appreciatively. "Hardly  
any fat at all. All muscle. It's too bad they won't let me do Juicer  
conversions on your kind. You're so strong already," he said, as if  
she were awake, as if she were a child requiring nurturing. He began  
the task of binding her to the table. He hummed as he did so, some  
nameless tune that had no direction, nor key.  
  
"The doctor is going to have to remove this collar," he singsonged  
tunelessly, "it will interfere with the tests."  
  
As he moved up to her neck, his eyes fell to her long black hair.  
  
"Such pretty hair," he muttered, running his sinewy fingers through  
the thick strands. "Dr. Ravelli is going to have to shorten it. A  
pity."  
  
After he was finished binding her, he idly bandaged her bloodied nose,  
cleaning the scarlet substance from her face, and carefully securing a  
strip of gauze which contained a metal band. He then took a seat on  
one of his stool chairs, and spent some time just admiring her. The  
scanners did their work, querying the anatomy of the young woman,  
gathering the scores and details of her body. An hour must have passed  
before he noticed her eyes fluttering open.  
  
"Oho! She awakens!" he piped cheerily, hopping down from the stool so  
he could stand next to her.  
  
Her gaze, confused, fell on him, making her face look fear filled. He  
could see the muscles of her body tensing as she tried to move, as she  
realized she was restrained.  
  
"No no, you dear beauty, don't panic. It wouldn't be good for you to  
panic."  
  
She relaxed somewhat. He smiled, the sags of flesh on his face  
tightening into lines.  
  
"Good good, that's it. Relax." He reached for something out of her  
line of vision. She felt the tips of fingers on the inside of her arm,  
and tensed again. There was a sharp spike of pain as what she  
recognized to be a needle slipped into her arm.  
  
"No!" she cried. He flinched, digging the intravenous too deep into  
her arm. Blood began to trickle from the wound.  
  
"Now that's no good," he said softly, "can't have you startling me  
like that!"  
  
He proceeded over to a wall of vials, beakers, and other scientific  
equipment.  
  
"No talking," he whispered, returning with a gag, wrapping it around  
her head while she struggled.  
  
"See?" he mock questioned as he picked through a number of heated IV  
bags. "Isn't that better? I much prefer the silence, myself. Life is  
really much too loud."  
  
The doctor finally settled on not the green bag, not the blue one with  
red spots, nor the neon one, but the gruesomely coloured rainbow one.  
  
"Ah-ha," he smiled, "Hell In A Needle. Just what the doctor ordered!"  
he chuckled. "Will you listen to me? I just made a funny!" He laughed  
for several moments, not seeming to notice the wideness of Rei's eyes,  
how they watched the bag he held in utter horror.  
  
With great precision, he set the bag on a hook on the wall nearby,  
then hooked the tube to the IV in her arm.  
  
"Oh," he gasped, noticing the blood on her arm, "my little goof up is  
making a mess everywhere, isn't it? I guess I'll just have to do  
something about that." He disappeared from her sight for a moment,  
then returned.  
  
"Here," and he slapped a bandage on the 'oopsie.' Rei gasped loudly  
into her gag. A solitary tear traveled down her cheek.  
  
"Is that better now?" he smiled at her as the rainbow sludge mixture  
drained slowly into her bloodstream. Eventually, his eyes began to  
wander. Rei watched those eyes, wondering what it would be like to  
crush them in their sockets. She also came to wonder how far you had  
to open the mouth to slip a knife in and carve out the tongue.  
Considering how would be the most painful way for him to die, her mind  
raced to the fire.  
  
The fire; it had always guided, helped her, in her time of need, and  
when the senshi had needed to know of the evil that the Negaforce  
unleashed. Even before, as a Priestess, it had never failed her in her  
times of need. Her mind saw his flesh boiling under the extreme heat  
it could produce. She saw him being consumed by the fire, and heard  
him screaming, pleading for mercy. Anything for mercy, please!  
  
Her mind waded and stood amongst death, knowing that these thoughts  
might be her last. She wondered what could possess someone to  
  
(kill)  
  
Why would you  
  
(crush someone's skull, sending pieces of bone deep into)  
  
Her mind faded, blurred, scurried at the reality that hers was  
changing.  
  
A silent vow came to her, a reaching, a probing, a lost hope:  
  
:If I survive, I will kill him. I will use the fire to fry him alive!:  
  
Then her reality ended. 


	13. Awakening the Angel of Fire

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 12: Awakening the Angel of Fire  
  
He paced; only a few minutes remained. She would come out of the coma  
in less than ten minutes. Dr. Ravelli fidgeted furiously in  
expectation of his latest creation. Such beauty to be transformed into  
such power!  
  
:What will manifest in my black haired beauty?; he wondered. If  
nothing, then she would simply have to undergo further treatment. He  
almost had to wonder how much more she could take; she had already  
endured a week of exposure to the drugs. No matter. She would come  
into her own. She was too much of a wonder not to survive.  
  
:The fire:  
  
The flames licked at her soul, teasing her. She felt the warmth, and  
knew that the fire was there. It was there for her. It was going to  
help her take her revenge.  
  
:You have known the fire most of your life. Use it. Use it to take  
back that which has been stolen from you:  
  
Her eyes snapped open. Awareness flooded her senses. Color. Light. The  
lights in the ceiling shone above her. She felt the coldness of the  
table, her bare skin against it. The air was warm in her dry mouth.   
Listening to the sound of her world, she heard nothing. Nothing.  
  
Movement in the corner of her vision brought her attention to him, The  
Hated One, as he entered the room. The door closed, she saw his mouth  
move. Silence was his only comment. He reeled as she screamed. Rei  
felt the vibrations in her throat as her voice tumbled forth in terror  
and anger. The Hated One drew near as the noise ceased.  
  
:The fire!:  
  
Anger coursed through her. Rei felt her hand suddenly free from the  
bond that held it. That hand was on fire. The Hated One's mouth opened  
in a mixed expression of pleasure and stark amazement. She reached  
toward him with her flaming hand, and sent the fire towards him, to  
let it burn, to destroy him. The fire took him, holding firm though he  
scrambled and ran through the door, leaving it open. She willed that  
the fire help her, so that she might be sure of his death.  
  
As the fire of her hand consumed the rest of her body, she felt the  
power of it fill her soul. Never again would he take anything from  
anyone. His life was hers. She flew out to the blackened body of the  
doctor, she knew the truth of the fire. It would never forsake her.  
Never.  
  
Soon, others came. They wanted the fire. She cried out again, and  
struck those down who came. They would not steal the fire from her.  
She was the fire now, and she would not be taken. She flew through the  
open door, going somewhere. She was not sure exactly where. Away? Away  
from what?  
  
The pain.  
  
As she sped down the white halls, she noticed cells like the one she  
had been held in. The thought that she might be able to free them did  
not even occur to her. She was consumed by her hatred for the  
Coalition. Then she saw them as they ran towards her. They had  
weapons. The first stopped.  
  
A cry of rage left her throat as she struck the first of the five. His  
helmet exploded in a plume of smoke. The second merely stepped over  
the body and pointed a strange looking gun at her. A white foam issued  
forth from the nozzle of the weapon, and as it struck her it caused...  
  
:My fire! No...!:  
  
...a violent wash of pain to take her as the flames of her body  
dissipated. She landed on her knees, coughing and cursing. Her voice  
rang out in uneven curses at her attackers.  
  
She felt a hand pull her hair, forcing her to look at one of them. She  
watched his mouth move, her anger only growing as he spoke. Though she  
could no longer hear him, she was starting to understand the words  
that his mouth formed when it moved.  
  
'You're gonna pay Bitch....'  
  
Then a hand hit her in the face. She bit the hand that slapped her,  
drawing blood. The man's mouth moved again, and so did the hand. Rei  
felt her arm snap as he twisted it violently behind her. She gave out  
in pain. The next thing she felt was a needle, then the welcome bliss  
of the veil of unconsciousness.  
  
---  
  
Dr. Mysin, a female geneticist of much experience and high rank,  
founded a strong interest in the piece of work that had unexpectedly  
terminated Dr. Frank Ravelli. Immediately after his expiration, she  
requested seniority on the case. Her interest in Dimensional Being 210  
extended somewhat further than just the result of the experiments.  
  
Rei herself was quite the curiosity, in her eyes.  
  
Rei could no longer tell night from day. She slept whenever the  
opportunity presented itself; which was not often. Between those  
restless periods lay more questions, beatings, and examinations. At  
times Dr. Mysin would submerge her in a glass tube. It was discovered  
that Rei no longer needed to breathe. She could also cause an aura of  
fire to surround her at will.  
  
This, and other things led Dr. Mysin to install cybernetic hearing  
implants in Rei so that she could explore her interests on a more  
intimate level.  
  
Rei had only been awake for a short extent of time. The length of  
which she failed to recognize, not that it mattered. Being able to  
hear again was something she really did not revel in. What was there  
to listen to but the curses of her captors as she continued to rebel  
in what few ways she could?  
  
At least when deaf she could pretend to ignore the name 'Bitch.'  
  
She had been told to expect to meet the senior doctor. Dr. Silver's  
kind words were always welcome. He had also elaborated on the  
condition of 'Sarah,' a.k.a. Ami Mizuno. Apparently the mental stress  
was too much for the young woman; she had spontaneously developed  
amnesia. Every fact from the point of birth had been conveniently  
forgotten.  
  
The doctor sympathized with the tears Rei had shed, and that she shed  
none at the point of his recollection.  
  
"Damn lot of good that did," Rei snarled faintly, getting to her feet.  
Her violet eyes traveled the wall, hoping that some kind of weakness  
would present itself. Of course, none did.  
  
She shivered. Most of the time the climate of the room was bearable,  
but sometimes, like just then, it was like a warm evening on Mount  
Everest. She still wore the collar, since they replaced it. No more,  
since they did not care for any dignity that might have remained  
within her. Despite her bruises and scars, the evidence of her  
blossoming into womanhood was unmistakable. Her form had filled out,  
mostly in the hips, and bust.  
  
Being a woman in captivity was no better than being a teenager. It  
presented her with nothing she could use.  
  
"Be that all ye see of it? Mayhap there be more, my dear, than first  
appears," queried a deep, faintly pleasing male voice.  
  
Rei gazed around sharply.  
  
"What?" She gazed sternly at the wall, as if trying to perceive  
something in it other than the whiteness of the ballistic plating.  
  
"Quite right," the voice said, sounding amused. "Thou hast been less  
alone than thou hast thought for a very long time."  
  
Rei swore darkly.  
  
"What the hell is it you want?"  
  
"I want ye, love."  
  
The conviction of his voice stunned her into silence, and brought her  
anger to a halt. As the moments passed, she began to sense more than  
just his voice. His presence became gradually clear to her, his  
emotions, his mind and his soul.  
  
Over the course of seconds, his life played itself out in her mind.  
The collar did not seem to be able to restrain the flood of memories  
which ensued. He was a True Atlantean of some one hundred years  
experience. He had known of her existence since the point of birth,  
and had sought her out from that point forward. He was a powerful mage  
schooled in many magic arts, including the element of fire, temporal  
wizardry, and the delicacies of dimensional travel. He was considered  
by many a force to be reckoned, and respected. She also read in him  
that she was his first and only love, that he had not fallen for  
another over the century of his life. The passionate strength of his  
love took possession of her heart, until she replied it in intensity  
and potency. Rei found herself crying tears of insurmountable joy.  
  
As the bond tightened between them, a humanoid figure trickled into  
existence. He had the seriousness of a raven written in the gorgeous  
features of his face, the muscular build of a powerful warrior, and  
midnight tinted waist length hair smooth as silk. He was clothed in  
deep shades of silken black as if in mourning.  
  
Immediately she was in his arms, mumbling softly, wordlessly. Emotions  
and thoughts flooded her mind to the point of confusion. She knew not  
what to say first.  
  
:You need speak not.. I know. I have read in your beauteous heart all  
thou offereth me; he uttered gently in her mind.  
  
"I know," Rei whispered. "It's just so much... to be loved like  
this... um, to have you, everything..."  
  
:Speak with thy mind. They can block not the passions we share:  
  
It seemed incredible, even for its honesty, she felt for an instant.  
  
:We must escape; Rei started, her mental words hesitant at first. :We  
must... I... It's not safe here:  
  
:Aye, my sweet. Thou'rt right. Howe'er, thou needs must speak first  
with Cassandra:  
  
Rei recoiled.  
  
:Why? She wants nothing but my death:  
  
:Nay. Her mind betrays her. She has fallen in love with ye:  
  
Rei balked, poking her tongue out of her mouth in a statement of her  
disgust.  
  
The man chuckled faintly.  
  
:Aye, it be quite distasteful. Yet, methinks thou might use it to thy  
advantage. She means to free thee, and though my powers be great... I  
run short of the manna required yet. It will take time. Thou  
understandeth me, aye?:  
  
:Hai, Adolphus, I understand; she replied, feeling calm for the first  
time since she knew not when. :What about you?:  
  
Before replying, he leaned forward, planting his lips firmly to hers.  
Silence drifted idly by as immeasurable passion was shared. He then  
smiled softly, stepping back from her.  
  
:I will be seen only by thou, my sweet fire-soul. Worry not for me:  
  
She nodded, a warm smile radiating on her face. His eyes narrowed in a  
rare expression of hatred. Immediately Rei understood; she was sharing  
his hatred for their abuse of her. As much as she appreciated the  
direction of his emotion, she would rather he was not angry. It  
darkened his face so unpleasantly!  
  
:They come!; he thought bitterly. :Mayhap your facade would best be  
kept, aye?:  
  
In response, she pushed her feelings down into the core of her soul,  
forcing what little animosity remained to come to the surface. The  
focus of Adolphus' feelings became darker, she felt, and it helped her  
to concentrate on the matter at hand. As the door slid smoothly open,  
she brought a scowl to her face.  
  
"Feh," the grunt said. "In a bad mood tonight hey Bitch? Well," he  
hefted his standard issue CS energy rifle. "It don't matter t' me. So  
long as yer not too loud."  
  
He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her out into the hall with him.  
  
"Dr. Mysin said she wanted you."  
  
Rei remained silent for most of the trip, actually caring for a change  
whether or not she was brutalized.  
  
"Why so quiet, fire-hussy? Did we finally beat the fight outta you?"  
  
Rei snarled under her breath, fully prepared to turn and fight.  
  
:Please love, don't. Combat shall serve ye not, despite him; Adolphus'  
mind explained soothingly to her. She knew he was walking beside her,  
she could feel him. She wanted so to look at him, to hold him, and it  
hurt her so that she could not. :Besides, ye have seen only the one  
side of yon coin:  
  
"Huh? I guess we 'ave! I never figured ya fer a quitter," the grunt  
said, seemingly surprised. "The doc said ya'd never let up, if ya know  
what I mean..."  
  
Rei stopped and cast a measured glance back at the armored man.  
  
"Hunh... Just you keep moving Bitch!" He slapped her, his hand cupped  
for effect more than pain, knocking her to the floor. As he knelt down  
to help her up, he spoke in hushed tones.  
  
"Sorry Rei, I hafta do that. Dr. Silver said he'd be back real soon  
with the others. He said he'd gotten word 'n Usagi and Mina. Ya'll be  
gettin' outta here soon." He shoved her away roughly as he finished,  
and uttered another loud order.  
  
She nodded ever so slightly in his direction, thanking him. The  
passing of a pair of moments saw them to Dr. Mysin's office, and the  
entry of Rei into her presence.  
  
"Radiant! Absolutely radiant!" a soft, sultry voice exclaimed gently.  
"My sweet heavens you are beautiful. Dr. Ravelli did have glorious  
taste, if nothing else."  
  
Rei risked a glance upward at the woman, challenging her with distinct  
ferocity. The sun-bleached blond stood and returned Rei's gaze evenly,  
maintaining the altercation. It rather seemed to Rei that the amply  
built woman would make a better whore than a scientist. She hardly fit  
the stereotype; wide dark green eyes, full, firm lips, a slender  
hourglass figure, and a graceful, sensual look about her. If not for  
the fact that her hair had been done up elaborately on her head, it  
would have easily fallen in full pale gold lengths to her svelte  
waist. She wore a simple khaki business suit which somehow accented  
her figure rather than concealed the generous curves of it.  
  
:Thou'rt quite right, love, if not somewhat harsh. She meanest only  
the best for thee, in her perverse manner:  
  
:I know, but that's hard to accept. The only love I want is yours; Rei  
concluded. She felt the warming of emotions in Adolphus and fought to  
conceal her reaction. For a moment there was the flicker of oddity at  
the statement, and another pang at the loss of Juan, but both were  
stifled by her new love's complete understanding and sympathy.  
  
"What do you want?" Rei began, making a point of simplicity for the  
complication of emotions within her soul.  
  
"That, my dear, is - for the most part - up to you. I know what I  
want, but the real question is, do you?" The woman raised a sleek  
eyebrow.  
  
:She's playing with me; Rei stifled a flare of rage. :Damnit! I don't  
want to do this...:  
  
:You must. This be the path of least cost; Adolphus stated. Rei  
sighed.  
  
"I want to leave, Cassandra."  
  
Cassandra smiled; she was winning.  
  
"That makes two of us, my angel. I tire of the Coalition. They tire of  
me. I find the concept of being an enemy of theirs tantalizing."  
  
Rei looked nonplused.  
  
"I don't get it."  
  
Cassandra nodded seriously.  
  
"Of course you don't. To put it plainly; I have two problems. First,  
how to make an enemy of the political power I have served my entire  
life? Leave. That, my luscious creature, is my second problem. How to  
leave in such a way that in order to return I must occupy a body bag?  
You are my means. So far, breaking the standards of experimentation  
upon you has meant nothing. Why? Merely for the reason that your  
angelic frame refuses to expire. You have survived the most brutal  
exploratory surgery, drug exposures, and physical abuse."  
  
Rei shuddered plainly at the references made by Cassandra to her. Each  
time she did, the blond woman smiled, pleased.  
  
"Stop it you whore," Rei snarled. "I'm not your angel!"  
  
Cassandra merely looked satisfied.  
  
"I knew you wouldn't hold back. I was counting on it." She stepped  
around her white desk, and stood before Rei, studying her closely.  
"You are too much the Firebrand. I am glad I choose you."  
  
Rei's open palm moved before she could think to stop it. Cassandra  
gasped, and wiped a bit of blood away from her lip as it curled  
somewhat angrily downwards.  
  
"Mind your temper. I have limited generosity, my dear."  
  
Rei growled, her fury growing.  
  
"Decide what, you bitch?"  
  
She leaned forward and kissed Rei's cheek.  
  
"If you sincerely wish to leave the Coalition State of Lone Star."  
  
:Love...:  
  
Rei grabbed Cassandra by the throat and held her aloft.  
  
"No," she hissed. "I set the terms here. You're the one who wants to  
leave, you do what I say. Got it?"  
  
Cassandra gagged and gasped.  
  
"Wh-what do yuh-you want?"  
  
"I want you to free Ami Mizuno."  
  
Cassandra looked shocked.  
  
"The half-cyborg?"  
  
Rei tightened her grip on the woman's neck.  
  
"Agh-gh-all right...!" she coughed, struggling.  
  
Rei dropped her, and with a dark scowl, stated, "I won't hesitate to  
kill you. Don't forget that."  
  
Cassandra coughed, rubbed her neck with her hands, then said:  
"Perhaps. Were I you, I would endeavor not to forget that if you kill  
me now, you will never escape."  
  
Rei's eyes narrowed.  
  
"Ah," Cassandra smiled. "I see you do not favor the idea. Good. Shall  
we go, sweet one?" She gestured towards the door.  
  
:Oh love, what have I gotten myself into?:  
  
:Worry not Rei, I am here for thee:  
  
Rei thanked the stars for his presence.  
  
--  
  
Ami, or rather, Sarah, did not seem terribly attached to the idea of  
departing.  
  
"Damnit Sarah, why not?" Rei asked, uncharacteristically trying to  
restrain her frustration. Sarah gazed calmly, and steadily at her, her  
blue eyes serene, and hard at the same time.  
  
"Listen honey, I'm glad yer fine, but I can't go. Shyanne needs me."  
  
Her eyes widened, "Who?!"  
  
"A ten year old girl in GECA. Unless I kin find a way ta get 'er  
out..."  
  
:Adolphus?:  
  
:To leave ye would be an option I cannot entertain. I shall locate  
this girl, and we shall return for her. Aye?:  
  
:Okay:  
  
"Alright Sarah, I'll get her out for you. Where is she?"  
  
Skepticism washed over her face.  
  
"How?"  
  
Rei leaned forward, and whispered as she spoke.  
  
"A mage. He's... Um, he can get her out."  
  
"Magic!" she blurted aloud.  
  
:Rei! Cassandra has betrayed thee!: Suddenly his form became visible.  
He took Rei's hand and pulled her to him.  
  
"Needs must we leave, now!"  
  
Sarah got to her feet.  
  
"Rei..." she started. Her face said the rest; come back for me...  
  
"All right," she said, looking at Sarah, then at her raven-faced love.  
"Let's go."  
  
---  
  
As the grunts burst through the cell door, they noted a blue haired  
girl fallen, her soul pouring out through her eyes.  
  
"What the hell is this?" snapped an angry sounding Dr. Desmond  
Bradford, following closely behind, stern glare cast upon the sobbing  
young woman.  
  
Cassandra appeared beside him, eager to answer his question.  
  
"Case 211-A, Sir. She seems to be crying."  
  
The man issued a dangerously intolerant sigh.  
  
"That, my dear, is painfully obvious. What is not, is why."  
  
Cassandra walked about the room for a moment, as if looking for  
someone. Dr. Bradford's hawk-like eyes scrutinized her actions.  
  
"Sir," she started, "we seem to be," she hesitated. "Missing one of  
the experimental cases."  
  
"Must I continually stand witness to these failures!" he boomed,  
turning away from Cassandra briefly. "Arthur, Drake! Go! Take a squad  
and search the entire level until this creature is found! Or must I do  
it myself?!"  
  
"No sir!" one of the two grunts barked before exiting hurriedly.  
  
"You, Cassandra, have a great deal of explaining to do. Come," the  
Administrator decreed as he departed the scene. With only a single  
regret-filled glance, she glanced back upon her failed ploy, and  
exited the scene. Some moments after her tears had dried, Sarah heard  
a small voice.  
  
"Mom...?" As this word was uttered, two forms faded slowly into  
existence.  
  
"Come Sarah, we hath time to tarry not!" Adolphus asserted swiftly. In  
his arms he held a small grey-winged blond haired girl. His face  
appeared somewhat pale, though Rei knew plainly why. A mystic talisman  
had given him the manna needed by drawing from his physical stamina.  
As a result, he leaned on her ever so slightly. He had been kind  
enough, however, to provide the young girl with a robe which was more  
than she had worn during her interval of residence at Lone Star. Sarah  
ran over to him, and they were gone. 


	14. A) The Missing Senshi, Or B) Who's That ...

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 13: A) The Missing Senshi, Or B) Who's That Girl?  
  
In a world much more unpleasant than Rifts Earth, a robed figure  
called out the names of two senshi.  
  
'Akari! Yanei!'  
  
Their forms wavered into reality, the first, a short female, dressed  
in a pale gold officer's uniform, with long red hair, orange eyes, a  
slender, well-formed body, and an childish whim. The second, a  
slightly taller male, was dressed in a uniform of pale blue, opposite  
of the woman aside him. His stocky build, dark blue hair and lighter  
eyes contrasted hers beautifully, as if designed carefully to strike  
that effect between them.  
  
Immediately, before speaking, they bowed before their elder.  
  
'What would you require of us, sensei?' the man requested respectfully  
in Japanese. It was true; he was their teacher, having trained the  
both of them since they were old enough to wield weapons.  
  
He trusted them more than even the foolish Queen Beryl who had failed  
so recently. Hand picked senshi had their advantages. He did not have  
any confidence in Galaxia's religious selection of so called  
'champions' who had more faith than brains, power, or fighting  
capability. To her, it was not a matter of capability, merely  
servitude. Many centuries ago he had decided to entrust the knowledge  
of war with his senshi and it had earned him much respect in the eyes  
of his Queen. Enough respect to command several small armies. Not that  
he had lacked any faith in her on his own terms. He merely had a more  
efficient method of dealing with those who were deemed her 'enemies.'  
  
Even knowing that list included 'everyone.'  
  
So far all was going well. The lion demon Yalen had successfully  
neutralized the Sailor Senshi, and made the struggle to send them to  
another dimension much less... costly. He only paid attention to their  
apparent dilemma on occasion, when he felt like a good laugh. Their  
struggles he found quite humorous, and changes also most interesting.  
One thing surprised him; none of them were yet dead. Many of them had  
come close, but they still survived.  
  
:Is it possible I have underestimated them?; he mused thoughtfully.  
:It is true that the Moon Princess only seems to gain strength from  
such events, yet I was certain this would crush her soul...:  
  
'What is it, sensei-san?' asked a gentle female voice.  
  
'Hm? Oh. I was just thinking on the success of my plan,' he replied  
evenly. He stood, and drew his staff in assistance to his step. 'I  
have a task for the both of you. One which I am quite sure you will  
experience no difficulty with.'  
  
Akari smiled lightly, eager to see action.  
  
'Anything!'  
  
The man read the eagerness in his student's eyes.  
  
'You are my most pliant students, if not the brightest. No matter. I  
do not expect you to have to trouble yourselves with many variables.'  
  
Akari merely awaited his command. Yanei, on the other hand, pouted.  
  
'You think us fools? Old man, you confuse us with Beryl's asinine  
fledglings.'  
  
The man merely smiled.  
  
'No, dear Yanei. If you were as intelligent as I, might you not be  
where I am now? Think on that.'  
  
She bowed her head, pout fading to a frown.  
  
'But not now. I have other matters of greater concern.'  
  
'Hai, Uraki-sama,' she replied sullenly.  
  
The man hobbled up to his two champions, and examined them, eyes  
gazing over their forms.  
  
'I have eliminated the Bishojo Sailor Senshi as a factor in our war.  
They are no longer a concern to us.' He turned away and began pacing  
slowly, unevenly. 'There is only one person who concerns me now. It is  
the Earth Guardian, Mamoru. He is stronger now since Beryl lost him to  
Usagi.'  
  
He shook his head.  
  
:Idiot woman. Why Galaxia entrusted her with the task of destroying  
them I still cannot fathom; he lamented in his mind. How many times he  
had remarked on her inability he could no longer count.  
  
'I want you to lure him to the Moon, and then destroy him.' His voice  
hung on the second to last word, in emphasis. 'How you do this is not  
my concern. You will not fail me. Hai?'  
  
'We would sooner perish,' Akari replied in earnest.  
  
'I would advise you to be watchful of the new element in this battle,  
as well.'  
  
He waved his hardwood staff vaguely, creating a circular portal of  
second sight in the air. Within it appeared a simple girl of waist  
length brunette hair, and an energetic countenance. She sprinted home  
adorned in the grey sailor suit uniform of her school as she tossed a  
glaringly green tennis ball between her long fingered hands.  
  
'What problem might she pose, as lovely as she is?' Akari queried.  
  
'She is pretty, indeed. It is the way of our enemies, to be  
continuously attractive, it seems. Nonetheless, for a reason I cannot  
fathom, she has been deemed a threat. So much so, that I would have  
you capture her.'  
  
Yanei rolled her eyes.  
  
'Her beauty pales to mine, wouldn't you say, Akari?' she yawned,  
undoing buttons enough of her tunic to reveal several sundry inches of  
her more than mid-sized cleavage.  
  
Akari failed to notice, his eyes locked upon the vital body of the  
youth.  
  
'Akari!'  
  
He faced her, his eyes dropping to the displayed flesh.  
  
'Hai my beloved. Much more...' he murmured distractedly.  
  
'Enough games!' Uraki declared impatiently. 'You will see her captured  
and brought to me. I will give you a week of respite with which to  
question her as you might, but do not kill her. I have a sense she may  
be of use.'  
  
Both bowed deeply.  
  
'Of course, my lord.'  
  
'Ours is only to serve,' Yanei added.  
  
'Then there is nothing more to be said here. Go.'  
  
Both students bowed, and returned to the faded state from which they  
had come.  
  
---  
  
There was a somewhat distressed regard upon that young woman's face as  
she strode quickly towards her appointed destination: Central Tokyo.  
She had been told the Kei-san had gone into hiding, due to the recent  
threat.  
  
:Hiding? If she gets to hide, then what are we supposed to do?; she  
thought, terribly upset by the recent culmination of events. Even  
hardball hadn't helped, even though she'd tromped Cale, Ayla, Meisu,  
and most notably Masurani, among others of lesser notice. It was those  
four in the game that had interested her most greatly. It was coming  
so close to the final selections, and she was being set aside like  
this? It was confusing.  
  
There was a noise, somewhat like the strangled mew of a kitten. A  
flash of alarm tore through Xalia, and the fact that the freedom of  
the very world itself was being threatened ceased to matter, beyond  
the sudden search for a very frightened sounding baby cat. As she  
rounded the corner, a startled voice caught her off guard.  
  
'Xalia!' blurted the tones of a voice the target dully recognized to  
be her sensei.  
  
'Nasura-sensei?' she queried, peering about swiftly. 'I'm kind looking  
for a lost kitten, have you seen.. uh.. oh!'  
  
The torteous shell colored cat gave a squeak as she was swept into the  
young woman's arms.  
  
'Cuuute!!' she spouted, tossing the frightened looking cat up into the  
air briefly before hugging her tightly.  
  
'Oh shimatta! Xalia! Stop!' protested the little feline desperately,  
its voice choked by Xalia's smothering attentions. Just as she had  
begun, she halted, holding the cat so as to gaze into its yellow eyes.  
  
'Nasura?!' she gasped, stunned.  
  
'Hai! Would you put me down? You scared the living daylights out of  
me!'  
  
'So sorry Kei-san!' she bowed, setting her down in the process.  
  
'Nevermind Xalia-chan,' she replied, 'We have matters of greater  
import to attend to.'  
  
'Sensei-san, may I ask a question?'  
  
'Hai.'  
  
'Why are you a cat?'  
  
'It shields me from their detection, young one,' was the reply. 'Oh, I  
have decided to Knight you.'  
  
'Um, are you sure this is such a good idea? Not that I'm about to  
openly refuse or anything...'  
  
'Such a good idea? I'm afraid there's really no choice.'  
  
She glanced curiously at the brown and silver haired cat perched on  
the pavement at her feet. The feline returned the regard, but somehow  
much more seriously than any ordinary cat might.  
  
'Don't forget why you were sent here,' she chided, pawing the young  
woman's leg. 'It's your duty to...'  
  
'Sssh! Someone's coming.' With a congenial smile, she took the cat  
into her arms and began stroking her gently. A fellow of short dark  
hair, silk pants and a black sweater approached with sunglasses, and a  
dark expression upon his face. 'Oh no! It's Mamoru!'  
  
'Don't worry!' the feline whispered. 'He doesn't know...mmpph!'  
  
Feeling her gaze upon him, he glanced up, only to see her giggling and  
waving nervously. Normally, he would have passed her by, but as a  
result of recent events, he wasn't taking any chances.  
  
'Hi,' he began, half-smiling. 'Do I know you?'  
  
:Is this some kind of stupid pick up line? Somehow, I doubt it...:  
  
'Uh,' she giggled. 'No.'  
  
He pulled his hands out of his pants pockets and folded them across  
his chest, as if readying further interrogation, when a scream tore  
through the small business sector.  
  
'Oh, that's my cue!' she blurted, bowing her head quickly and making a  
mad dash towards the source of the noise. As she tore down the  
sidewalk, the cat matching her running pace tersely commented:  
  
'Why did you have to say that? Do you want to get caught?'  
  
'Nasura! What was I supposed to say?'  
  
'Anything else! Just not that!'  
  
She rolled her brown eyes, her waist length brunette hair flying out  
behind her.  
  
'Too late now.'  
  
'I suppose so. Okay, stop!' she commanded, drawing to a halt in front  
of a restaurant, which seemed rather vacant. The small feline closed  
her eyes and bowed her head, after which a palm sized shining jade  
crystal appeared on the pavement at her feet.  
  
'Take it,' she commanded, and after she did so, ordered: 'Hold it and  
say: Sailor Ether - Sugoi Henshin!'  
  
'Uh, sure,' she replied, raising the crystal above her head and  
pronouncing: 'Sailor Ether - Sugoi Henshin!'  
  
As she did, swirls of energy produced a uniform that suited her every  
desire as to how she envisioned herself one of the Bishojo Sailor  
Senshi. As she fell into her final pose, adorned in the greens and  
white of her uniform, she gave herself a once over glance.  
  
'Eeek!' she exclaimed, pushing at the microskirt. 'It's so short!'  
  
'It's what you wanted!' Nasura explained. 'This is how you envisioned  
yourself as a Sailor Senshi.'  
  
'Great,' she sighed, then spotted the stylish dark green mid-calf  
length boots upon her feet. 'Oh cool!'  
  
'Don't forget, you've got a job to do!'  
  
'Oh, right,' she blinked, snapping out of her trance. 'How do I stomp  
it?'  
  
'You control wind, and have incredible speed. You run fast enough that  
the human eye cannot detect you. You can also fly.'  
  
'Huh?' she muttered, practically drooling.  
  
'Fly. You have wings, you ninny! And you can't be seen when you run,'  
she stated on a flat, slightly disappointed sounding note. 'Don't be  
afraid to use your kick boxing, or to get creative with your powers.  
Nothing is defined yet. It's all up to you.'  
  
'Oh, wings!' she laughed, flapping them experimentally. Her expression  
turned to puzzlement, which slowly found Nasura. 'What do I throw at  
it?'  
  
'When you want to throw something just shout "Wind Blade - Slice" and  
act like you're throwing your strikeout fastball,' she hinted,  
sulking. 'But don't be afraid to experiment. Play with your powers.'  
  
'Oh, sure.' :Whatever that means: She made a single running step, and  
was gone.  
  
'Look! It's Sailor V! She'll save us!'  
  
To the four dozen men and women trapped in the demon besieged  
restaurant, she was both recognizable - in a vague fashion, despite  
the unusual colour of hair and undeniable presence of wings - and  
their only savior.  
  
'Halt beast of the NegaVerse! Release that woman!'  
  
The rotund sumo wrestler-like black skinned creature smiled a toothy,  
blood filled smile, and proceeded to tear the woman in two. Before it  
could complete the task, the young woman proclaimed "Sailor V"  
shouted:  
  
'Wind Blade - Slice!"  
  
Despite the strangeness of the declaration, four cloud-like free  
flying chakram blades rapidly sought the distracted demon. As the new  
senshi landed on her feet, the hands attempting to segment the victim  
fell to the ground, allowing the internally rent woman to collapse in  
agony.  
  
'I am Sailor Ether! I live to destroy all evil! I won't stand by and  
watch you harm another living being! Prepare to be punished!'  
  
'You think you can beat me, little girl?' growled the beast  
gutturally, swinging its abruptly regenerated clawed hands and easily  
decapitating a nearby business suited man as it laughed loudly. With a  
lunging toss, he hurled the grimacing head at her. Deftly, she dodged  
the attack, leaping towards the creature.  
  
As she did, she seemed to disappear.  
  
'It's no use hiding! I'll ge-aaaaagggh!!!'  
  
The beast fell to the earth, its collapsed skull rolling free from its  
gutted body. The gory spray of blood turned into a fine grey dust as  
the creature dissipated, banished from the realm to which it had been  
summoned.  
  
'So who's hiding?' she smirked, holding a blackened crystal in her  
hand, watching uninterestedly as it turned to powder in her palm.  
  
---  
  
Mid-summer heat brought little comfort to those in their offices.  
Appreciation of the brilliant weather was passed down to  
beach-dwellers, of which there was many that day. What better way to  
spend the restlessly hot day but in the sun? The cool waters lapping  
at the edge of the beach drew a misty breeze to those who had accepted  
the offer of the weather.  
  
They were, in part, interested by the gathering of individuals, and  
why they nestled in groups, and such heat. Yet more distinct was their  
interest in how this collective might serve them.  
  
'Uraki-sama was right,' Akari observed. 'The girl has become a  
problem.'  
  
'Of course he was right. She can wait, however. We have greater  
concerns right now to deal with.'  
  
Akari and Yanei had spied their lure. Neither expected their task to  
be an easy one. In the past, Mamoru had not been easily fooled.  
Defeated and simply overpowered, but not fooled. He was considered to  
be a most worthy opponent.  
  
'So we must draw his attention,' Yanei observed, her gaze settled on  
the iridescent pool of seeing.  
  
Akari nodded.  
  
'I will summon a gem-beast. It will steal the energy of the fool  
humans on the beach. Mamoru will have no choice but to respond.' He  
smiled, quite proud of himself. 'Uraki-Ayo would be pleased.'  
  
'Even if it does take time,' Yanei added.  
  
Akari blinked, confused.  
  
'Time? Why should it?'  
  
'How will he know to reach us? It may take months to sufficiently bait  
him, my darling,' Yanei explained lovingly.  
  
'I see your point, beloved. Is there nothing we can do to alter this  
delay?'  
  
For a moment, she was silent with thought. Her finger twirled several  
wayward lengths of orange hair absently.  
  
'Ah!' she grinned. 'We can tempt him directly. It will cost us  
valuable energy, but I am certain it will be worth it. An appearance,  
however brief, will certainly motivate Luna and Artemis, hai?'  
  
'Hai! You are much wiser than I, my sweet, and I love you for it,'  
Akari smiled, taking her hand and pressing his lips to it briefly.  
Childishly, she blushed, a pleasant smile warming her young face.  
  
Akari bowed his blue haired head and mumbled a series of words under  
his breath. Moments later, the pool of seeing fogged, the image on the  
surface swirling and fading into grey. Several slivers of light  
rippled from the edges of the pool to the center, where they gathered  
into a physical substance. As the process continued, a small opaque  
object began to take form. Akari stopped his chanting, and let the  
spell complete itself. His hand reached and picked up the  
crimson-tinted gem in two fingers.  
  
'It is your turn my beloved,' he said, not looking at Yanei.  
  
She said nothing as she closed her eyes. The image of the beach  
returned, and shifted, as if panning, like a camera. The image moved  
to the strip of park that strode the length of the sandy surface of  
land.  
  
:Now; Yanei thought.  
  
Akari's fingers appeared to let the gem slip. The gem disappeared into  
the waters. When it reappeared, it seemed to have landed on the  
pavement pictured in the pool.  
  
'It only requires a touch, and they will bring forth the beast  
within.' Akari smiled, and leaned backwards. 'We have only to wait.'  
  
'What about the girl?'  
  
'I think I have a gem that will work beautifully for our cute little  
warrior...'  
  
---  
  
He landed effortlessly on the ground. A small black feline ran aside  
the formally dressed man, calling out his name.  
  
'Tuxedo Kamen!'  
  
He looked at her behind his white mask.  
  
'How do you expect me to defeat this creature, Luna-chan? I can't  
banish them the way Usagi did.' Irritation and anxiety rang in his  
voice.  
  
She halted suddenly.  
  
'I d-don't know.'  
  
A small white cat followed up behind her.  
  
"We can't just let it roam free!"  
  
His words came as more of a command than advice. Tuxedo Kamen had no  
choice in the matter, and he knew it. For a moment he watched the  
beast, the humanoid qualities of it as it grabbed and stole the life  
energy from the scattering people on the beach.  
  
:Hardly efficient; he decided suspiciously. It was taking much too  
long, terrorizing single victims before seizing their energy. Playing  
with them as one does with food.  
  
It appeared to be mostly humanoid, aside from the claw-like appendages  
in the place of arms. He decided that if he was going to act, he had  
to do it carefully. Perhaps he could scare it off? He grumbled  
discontentedly, placing himself before the beast, preparing for the  
confrontation.  
  
'I am Tuxedo Kamen!' he declared, expecting rage from the creature as  
a reaction. 'What did Usako used to say?' he muttered under his  
breath. 'Uh... In the name of... uh... oh hell, prepare to get your  
ass kicked!'  
  
The creature spied him, and paused.  
  
'Tuxedo Kamen?' a guttural voice mumbled. A deep war cry tore loose  
from the beast's throat, assaulting his ears. 'You will die!'  
  
Without further ado, the beast charged at him.  
  
Tuxedo Kamen aptly sidestepped the attack, swatting the beast with his  
cane. The beast fell over, causing a brief explosion of sand. No  
question as to who was the superior fighter here, he decided.  
  
With a growl, the beast rose to his feet. It did not move, it merely  
stood, seeming to gauge the opponent it faced. The oddly formally  
dressed man was suddenly gripped by the question; was it actually  
thinking ahead? He nearly laughed at the concept. When the gem-beast  
saw his distraction, it struck. Tendrils from the creature reached out  
and grabbed him by the arm, latching on tightly. Tuxedo Kamen gasped  
at the unexpected movement, and also when he realized he was about to  
be defeated.  
  
'Damn,' Luna cursed, then jumped at the creature. Claws raked across  
the dark blue skin of the beast's face, drawing blood and rendering it  
sightless. The creature wailed out in agony and dropped the weakening  
Tuxedo Kamen.  
  
'Thank you, Luna-chan,' he gasped.  
  
Artemis ran up to Luna.  
  
'How do you suppose he defeats the demon, Luna-chan?' he asked.  
  
Luna's eyes narrowed.  
  
'I have a thought, but I'm not sure it will work.'  
  
'Whatever you're thinking has got to be better than not trying at  
all,' Artemis stated flatly.  
  
She glanced at Artemis briefly.  
  
'Hai. Of course.' She looked at the kneeling Tuxedo Kamen. 'Try to  
pierce its heart with your rose!'  
  
He gave her a strange look, but nodded.  
  
'Summoning crystal?' Artemis whispered, voicing his own suspicion.  
  
'Hai,' she replied. 'That's my thought. If not, then we're in  
trouble.'  
  
Tuxedo Kamen got to his feet, to face a severely angry, and equally  
disoriented gem-beast. It tossed and struck out blindly, hoping to  
grasp something from which it could steal energy. He moved like liquid  
lighting, his action only clear when completed. The stem of a full red  
rose sat embedded in the chest of the creature, which cried out in  
further pain, and dissipated with a cool hiss.  
  
'Good work, Tuxedo Ka...' she fell short when she realized her tone.  
This was not the klutzy Usagi she was used to dealing with! Luna  
cleared her throat. 'So sorry, Tuxedo Kamen.'  
  
'No, Luna-chan, don't worry about it,' he replied, with a somewhat  
sorrowed tone. He turned, preparing to leave the scene.  
  
'Konnichi wa, ronin Tuxedo Kamen. Where are your lovely senshi when  
they are needed most, neh?'  
  
He turned sharply in response to the voice. Suspended several feet  
from the ground was a transparent image of a stocky humanoid male,  
dressed in a purple gi. Standing beside him was a short woman, dressed  
in a gi of pale orange.  
  
'Nan desu ka!' Mamoru demanded curtly, drawing his cane from thin air  
and hefting it threateningly.  
  
'I am Akari. This is my beloved, Yanei,' he began. 'We are here, to  
destroy you.'  
  
'Tsk, tsk, love,' the woman said. 'So blunt! Do you recall that is not  
our purpose?'  
  
He gazed at her and smiled.  
  
'Hai. You are right. My personal desire proceeded before my wit.' His  
dark blue eyes turned on his opponent, narrowed, and cold. 'Perhaps  
you are wondering about your missing Sailor Senshi? You might be  
interested to learn that they no longer exist.'  
  
Tuxedo Kamen felt a brief bolt of fear and panic.  
  
'No! You lie!'  
  
'Do I? Perhaps if you can find us, you can reach what you seek.' The  
image waned and faded as the man laughed boldly.  
  
Tuxedo Kamen sank to his knees, tears trailing in abundance from his  
eyes, and whispered; 'Iye, Usako...'  
  
'Tuxedo Kamen?' queried a gentle female voice. He wiped his eyes and  
stood, presenting strength where none he felt. The girl was not  
smiling as she greeted him.  
  
'I'm Sailor Ether, I'm here to help you.'  
  
For a while he just looked at her, as if really just realizing she was  
standing there being quite pretty and on his side. Luna, on the other  
hand, neared him, and glared up at the stranger.  
  
'If you are a royal senshi of the Moon Kingdom, then why don't I  
recognize you?'  
  
The girl shrugged.  
  
'I was given a crystal, and told to help. That's all I know.'  
  
'By whom?'  
  
'She asked me not to tell you. I'm sorry,' she replied, fidgeting with  
her hands at her skirt.  
  
'"She?"' Luna prodded. With that, the strange girl turned and flew up  
into the air.  
  
'Forget it! I've said too much already! I just wanted you to know I'll  
be around to help! I'll take care of things!' she called as her  
slender, winged figure disappeared into the distance.  
  
---  
  
Several days later, after many lost hours of sleep, Mamoru sat up with  
Luna and Artemis in his apartment. Days of speculation had shed no  
light. The only reasonable explanation was that these two were from  
the NegaVerse. How could that be? Had Usagi not defeated Queen Beryl,  
banishing her, and the NegaForce back to the dimension from which it  
had come? There seemed no logic to the source, if indeed, it was them.  
  
'I'm sure they're lying,' Luna offered weakly. The slender black cat  
the voice issued from jumped up on the young man's lap. He refused to  
pet her. He was too angry. He had remained quite angry since losing  
this battle.  
  
'You don't sound sure,' Artemis replied tentatively. Luna could say  
nothing, nor could she meet his scrutinizing gaze.  
  
'Where could the Sailor Senshi be if Akari and Yanei aren't lying,  
Luna-chan? They can't have just disappeared from Tokyo.'  
  
The Japanese youth scowled. He ran a hand through his short black  
hair, the knowledge of his greatest fear born to reality consuming him  
from the inside out. He did not know where the Sailors were, and he  
was unable to protect them. How could it get worse?  
  
'If these two... Akari and Yanei... are as powerful as I seem to feel  
they are, then they very well could have, Mamoru. We clearly don't  
know what we're up against.' Luna was feigning calmness. She had  
already spent her tears some days ago. This was her greatest failure,  
losing the Moon Princess to an unknown force. Luna was quite certain  
that it was Akari and his consort, Yanei. She could not belay the  
darkness she felt when she regarded the situation. She was lying to  
Mamoru, and herself, in the hopes that she was wrong.  
  
The similarly slender, white cat regarded Mamoru sternly.  
  
'I don't know what's going to get done with you guys just sitting  
around,' Artemis' cool deep voice stated evenly, his eyes then met the  
disillusioned young man. 'You've got to face them.'  
  
'How?' Though he had successfully destroyed six gem beasts since their  
initial appearance, the idea of fighting their creators made him  
somewhat hesitant. Quickly, he brushed that hesitation aside. If Akari  
and Yanei had the Sailor Senshi, he would save them!  
  
'Go to the moon. I think that between the three of us, we can channel  
enough energy to get there,' Luna said, her tail twitching nervously.  
  
Mamoru could only nod.  
  
'What about this... new Sailor? I hear them calling her "Sailor V",  
but it's not her. I would know,' Artemis stated, a timbre of fine  
unease in his usually cool voice.  
  
'Of course it's not,' Luna replied. 'I don't know who it is. I don't  
recognize her as one of the Inner Senshi. She's not familiar.'  
  
'Do you think she might be from the NegaVerse?'  
  
'It's not their style,' Luna observed. 'They wouldn't try the same  
trick twice, after Zoisite fouled it up the first time.'  
  
'Hai, I agree, but neither is capturing our senshi,' Artemis tersely  
frowned. 'We can't be sure what they'll do anymore.'  
  
'I'm sure I would know,' Luna shook her head morosely. 'Especially  
under the current circumstances.'  
  
'I don't think she's evil. She's been helping too much. We've even  
talked to her, and she was honest.'  
  
'As far as we know, Mamoru,' Luna pointed out, lying down slowly. 'But  
I think you're right. She did say she wasn't Sailor V.'  
  
'The title "Sailor Ether" doesn't ring any bells, if you know what I  
mean,' Artemis commented.  
  
'There were senshi from other dimensions, you know,' Luna said,  
glancing at Artemis. 'I'm pretty sure we can't have known all of  
them.'  
  
'I suppose. I say we forget about her. She can take care of things  
here while we're gone. She's destroyed over a dozen of the creatures  
during the last week on her own! I think we can trust her.'  
  
'I don't know...' Luna hesitated. 'It's awfully risky.'  
  
'Anything we do is. Even if we didn't have this stranger helping us  
out, leaving would put everyone in Tokyo in danger anyway.'  
  
'There's no choice,' Mamoru agreed firmly. 'We go. Without Usagi we  
don't stand a chance.'  
  
Luna remained silent for a time.  
  
'I'm still not sure,' she began. 'But what else can we do...?'  
  
---  
  
'Dance-ance-ance! Or you won't be stayin' alive-ive-ive!'  
  
The camerawoman hiked her skirt up awkwardly, moving her feet as to  
avoid the spikes of metal which shattered the tile underneath her.  
With a frown at the woman's success, the patchwork clown of red eye  
and black tooth took her by the throat, laid a claw about her waist  
suggestively, and began draining her of energy.  
  
'Drop her, fiend!' commanded a slight, but loud voice. It ignored the  
request, but glanced about, seeking its source.  
  
'Cannot fool-ool-ool the clown of NegaForce! Come forward-ard-ard  
Sailor Girl! Let me drain you!'  
  
There was an echoed nervous clearing of throat.  
  
'Your innuendo doesn't scare me,' she replied defiantly. :But you  
being a clown doesn't exactly help!: 'I said let her go!'  
  
The body from which the voice originated appeared standing as defiant  
as the vocal weapon, hands upon her hips, snarl upon her face, adorned  
prettily in a green body suit with even deeper green microskirt. The  
suit was coated by a thin layer of mystic armor, whereas upon her  
naked arms and legs were armlets and shin guards of white. The  
expression upon her face, however, denoted extreme distaste, even  
while she harbored similarly inclined anger at the creature's very  
presence.  
  
'Why should-ould-ould eye,' it pointed to the optic organ of which it  
spoke. 'Little greenie?'  
  
'Because I am Sailor Ether! I live to destroy all evil! And I won't  
stand by and watch you harm another living being! Prepare to be  
punished!'  
  
The crowd cheered, filling the young woman with confidence.  
  
'Oh really-ally-ally?' it sneered, tossing the woman across the news  
desk and reached, extending its arms with such speed towards Xalia  
that she found herself held by waist and thigh before she could move.  
She gripped the limbs and pried, finding little give despite her  
augmented strength.  
  
She screamed despite herself, the following words trailing into the  
high pitched exclamation. 'Let... go... Stop! Let go of me!'  
  
There was a small sea of gasps, accompanied by a rather distinctive:  
  
"Drop her you damn ugly clown!"  
  
With suitably unsightly frown, it turned upon the small gathering of  
people and uttered a wail of challenge so powerful, that the crowd  
shattered like warming mercury, fleeing as if on a downhill slope. A  
high pitched laugh rang through her skull, its multi-toned falsetto  
taunting her as much as threatening a major headache.  
  
'Helpless, little greenie-eenie-eenie is helpless! At my  
mercy-ercy-ercy!'  
  
'That's what you'd like,' she snarled hatefully. 'Hurricane!'  
  
The spinning of wind began, tossing her hair and pulling at the  
creature, threatening it with untold of violence... until it halted  
unduly, sputtering like a car on empty. With an unearthly, toothy  
grin, it locked its metal claw hand around her neck, forming a simple  
collar. The long limbed clown like creature tore at her bow and the  
crystal embedded within, shearing away these items easily. Her uniform  
flickered and disappeared, leaving her dressed in black tights and a  
loose, short sleeved green top. The small jade stone flipped away with  
the rending motion and landed on the floor with a glass-like tink.  
  
:Oh hell!; she cried, thrashing against the restraining monster, her  
unaugmented strength a far cry from sufficent.  
  
:Oh no!; Nasura gasped. :She's losing! I haven't worked through this  
scenario!:  
  
It raised the nullified senshi into the air, draining energy as it  
did.  
  
'Sailor Ether - or should this clown say Xalia! - Is lost for  
good-ood-ood! Never stood a chance-ance-ance!'  
  
'No...' she uttered faintly, feeling her strength waning.  
  
:How does it know?; Nasura wondered, dashing towards the creature and  
making a leap for its face. With a scowl, it simply swatted her aside,  
who then aptly landed on her feet.  
  
'Face it girl-irl-irl, you don't have the goods!'  
  
It drew her forward, grabbing her right breast and placing an  
unwelcome kiss upon her lax lips. Struggling nigh uselessly, her mind  
rang out in scintillating shards of pain as tears formed in her  
squinted eyes.  
  
:Stupid, stupid, stupid, Nasura! You can't help her as a cat!:  
  
'But then again-ain-ain,' it taunted, pulling away, 'there may be  
hope-ope-ope for you yet...'  
  
'Drop her!' declared a voice in unquestionable selfless fear spurred  
anger.  
  
The clown swiveled about to face a glowing woman adorned in a grey  
kimono and flaring waist length purple hair, her eyes giving presence  
to the timeless phrase "Hell hath no fury as a woman's scorn."  
  
'Catch,' she issued, tossing a silver crystal at the creature, who  
caught it with a free hand. Suddenly it gave a withered cry as she  
clenched her hands, from which light flared like the interior of a  
sun. The crystal in its hand exploded, and as it dropped its prey, it  
fell forward and turned to dust, scattering on the wind inspired by  
Xalia's limited recovery.  
  
'You know we really hadn't anticipated this,' stated a rather calm  
male baritone, considering the event. 'Magi do so complicate things.'  
  
'Akari! Yanei!' Nasura snapped, whirling upon the semi-transparent  
pair.  
  
'Don't look so bloody shocked, Nasura," Yanei snarled, stepping  
forward, hands on her slender hips. "You knew we were behind this.  
Just hoping we'd forget about your cute senshi? Not when she's toting  
power of that kind around!'  
  
'What do you want?' she snarled, positioning her hands gracefully so  
as to summon manna.  
  
'Isn't it obvious?' she replied, then balked thoughtfully. 'Well, I  
suppose not. You know, you really are quite pretty. For your age,' she  
commented seriously, hands upon her slender hips. 'No matter. We've  
done our research, channeller. We know you are useless without a  
portal through which to focus your power.'  
  
'Don't think you know me,' she snarled coldly, straightening her  
posture and reciting a brief spell.  
  
The lovers dropped to their knees as if she had lit a fire in their  
bellies. Yanei held her eyes with an unfeigned expression of newfound  
respect while she executed a counter-spell. They recovered, and Yanei  
gasped thusly:  
  
'Damn it. It's not over, witch!' she issued, their forms slowly  
washing out of that reality. 'We will have her, sooner or later, then  
you will have truly lost.'  
  
Her echoed laugh as they faded away brought a dark unease to Nasura as  
she touched Xalia's limp form, waking the pale looking young woman.  
  
'Nasura, it...' she curled up against her, weeping quietly.  
  
'I know,' she replied sympathetically. :What are they playing at? Rape  
was never a factor before! Why now, why her?:  
  
Gazing up into the sallow sky, she could glean no answer, and knew not  
how much longer they could last without the Bishojo Sailor Senshi.  
  
:Hurry Mamoru! The Earth needs the senshi!:  
  
---  
  
The strong pitch of the wind tossed and pulled at the heavy clothes  
and coat he wore. He squinted his eyes behind a pair of thick goggles,  
looking into the distance ahead. That distance held little of  
interest, as it consisted mostly of white powder, and the light that  
reflected brightly from it. Save for the existence of a small cave,  
Mamoru might otherwise have left the life-starved scene.  
  
'He made it!' she smiled, kneeling down next to the pool of seeing.  
She was a long, lithe creature of some slender, childish beauty. She  
wore a simple dress of pale gold, none to elaborate in style, but well  
suited to her tall, soft-skinned form. Her ashen red hair flowed to  
the small of her back, no lower. Flaccid orange eyes gazed into the  
pool, and then to the focus of her life, her love; Akari.  
  
'It is as I said it would be, my beloved.'  
  
Akari smiled as Yanei gazed at him. Akari was a tall, barrel-chested  
humanoid male who prided himself on his supernatural strength, and his  
capabilities in battle. His blue eyes followed his love as she took a  
scroll from the shelf near her. He ran a hand through his short green  
hair, and smoothed out his long dark blue robe, the grin fading from  
his face.  
  
'What to you intend to do, my love?' he asked gently.  
  
Her replied smile was deceptive.  
  
'He will need further guidance.' She bowed her head and chanted a few  
words under her breath. 'Come Uyline-chan, take the lost one, bring  
him to us, show him his true destiny.'  
  
As her voice fell silent, a large shadow grew to cover Mamoru's form.  
  
'Mamoru-kun!' Luna cried, noting the snow beast before him, and  
attempting to warn him of its presence.  
  
'Silly man-thing,' the creature observed. 'Do you really think my  
masters sent me here to harm you?' Mamoru dodged the grasping fist  
that came at him, indicating exactly his thoughts on the matter. The  
ten foot tall snow woman 'tsked' and grabbed him.  
  
'Come along nicely,' she said in almost motherly tones. 'Or I might  
have to hurt you!'  
  
Mamoru struggled as they approached the cave, certain that the snow  
beast would throw him over some cliff to his death.  
  
'Now wouldn't that be a silly thing for me to do,' she chided his  
thought. 'I might get in trouble with my masters! I do not think I  
will do that.'  
  
Mamoru remained silent in mind as word, trying to think as little as  
possible. The cave carried into darkness, as much in lack of light as  
sense of evil.  
  
'Luna! Artemis!' he called. Both cats struggled to keep up, even  
though they knew that they were slowly losing him, as well.  
  
'I think we're going to be a little late, Luna-chan,' Artemis panted.  
  
'Mamoru-kun!' she cried, as if having not heard him. 'No!! I won't  
lose him too!' she snarled. 'C'mon Artemis-kun!'  
  
---  
  
The snow beast set him down carefully, nearly chilled through to the  
bone. He shivered violently.  
  
'Thank you Uyline-chan, that will be all. Why don't you go and watch  
out for other lost humans?' Yanei smiled.  
  
'To please my masters is my sole desire,' she bowed, water trickling  
from her femininely snow bound form, and exited, her feet leaving only  
a trailing echo.  
  
'So where is your bravado now, Mamoru-san?' she started, her face  
bearing a near-perfect confident white toothed and wicked smile.  
  
'W-what have y-you d-d-done... uhhh,' he got to his knees slowly,  
still shivering.  
  
'Done... you are in no place to ask questions, failed champion! What  
do you think? How do you believe your fair Xalia, um, fares?'  
  
Mamoru did not reply. He merely shivered in place, trying to recover  
some warmth, but not succeeding.  
  
'Calmly, Yanei-san, calmly,' Akari urged softly. 'I think he might be  
a little...' he paused, searching for the word, '... cold. Humans tend  
to suffer from that when without warmth. If you are to question him,  
then...?'  
  
His hand indicated the cave about them. Yanei pouted, looking very  
much the child, and sighed.  
  
'Hai. If I must,' she said. She muttered a few more words under her  
breath and Mamoru finally felt a gentle warmth surround him.  
  
'I asked you a question! Answer it!' she demanded, glaring at Mamoru,  
then glancing at Akari for reassurance. He smiled and nodded. Mamoru  
struggled to his feet. Numbly, he pulled open his coat, and pulled out  
what appeared to be a rose of crimson.  
  
Yanei gave a little gasp.  
  
'I am Tuxedo Kamen,' he declared weakly. Only moments after this  
statement, Mamoru's water soaked clothes were replaced by a complete  
formal outfit: Tuxedo, cape, cane, hat, and mask, all but the latter  
black. 'In my mind there is no question how she fares, but well!'  
  
'Amusing!' Akari laughed, standing, sounding impressed. 'Your faith is  
quite remarkable, even though you hardly know the child!'  
  
:Ah, Akari; Yanei smiled, glad she had coached him on his manner prior  
to this meeting. His calmness angered the righteous warrior, as she  
had known it would. :You play the King well. Keep to it, and we shall  
win yet!:  
  
Tuxedo Kamen's expression turned sour.  
  
'I want to know what you have done with the Sailor Senshi!'  
  
Yanei looked at her love, face placid for a moment. Then she giggled.  
She glanced at Tuxedo Kamen and smiled.  
  
'Done? My you are a foolish one, aren't you? Even for such a beautiful  
senshi...'  
  
Akari looked irritated as he approached his intended opponent.  
  
'We have done nothing to your precious girls,' he snapped, angered by  
his love's flirtations. Mamoru ignored Yanei's attentions, adamant on  
his answer.  
  
'You have them!'  
  
Akari took a moment to clear his mind.  
  
:Yanei; he thought. :Please my love, remember the one who cherishes  
you:  
  
She glared at him, then sighed, frowning prettily.  
  
:Hai, love, of course. Shall we end this?:  
  
Akari nodded. Tuxedo Kamen took a step towards the two, confused by  
their silence.  
  
'We have nothing that would interest you here, Earth Guardian,' Akari  
stressed softly, walking backward towards Yanei. 'Perhaps some of  
these might entertain you.'  
  
With a gesture, four demons swathed in shadow dropped down from the  
darkness above.  
  
The masked gentleman did not hesitate in his attack, knowing that the  
demons would not in theirs. Pulling a rose from his coat, he pierced  
the nearest creature with it, thrown, like a dagger. There was a dry  
hiss, and the form of the shadow-like beast turned into stale streams  
of smoke.  
  
Akari chuckled to himself, wondering if he would find a chance to  
battle the masked one himself. A good battle, as short as it might be,  
would be a refreshing change.  
  
Approaching his love, the sounds of hand to hand combat clearly  
audible in the background, he leaned over and kissed her softly. When  
his lips left hers, she stood, and bid him towards the elaborate  
thrones of ice they had abandoned in their interest of their opponent.  
  
'Do you expect him to win, my beloved?' she asked.  
  
'Hai. Against the darklings,' he mused, 'but not me.'  
  
She blinked and smiled, tossing back a length of hair affectatiously.  
  
'Of course not. I have yet to see a human best you in combat.'  
  
He frowned slightly.  
  
'The potential energy wasted while we bicker over his silly Bishojo  
Senshi.'  
  
She nodded, empathic in his concern. Yet, something prodded her.  
  
'My love,' she began, distracted by the swift, skilled combat. 'I do  
not think... that Uraki-sama would have gone to such trouble to remove  
them from their home dimension if they were merely silly!'  
  
'Perhaps,' he frowned thoughtfully, placing a thick hand against his  
chin. 'Why did he not just kill them?'  
  
'There is a good reason. He would have slain them, rather than sending  
Yalen after them, but there's more to it...'  
  
'Hai. He did need the exercise,' he remarked, glancing at her briefly.  
  
'Maybe... I'm not sure about this,' she replied his gaze for a moment,  
'... but, maybe it's about breaking them.'  
  
'Breaking them? I could do that,' he started with a scowl. 'Yalen  
himself broke the blue haired girl, and nearly killed that long haired  
one.'  
  
'You mean Ami and Rei? Hai, but they are alive now. No, my beloved, it  
is, I think, about breaking their will to fight.'  
  
Silence drew a veil over the two. Yanei found herself watching the  
human, the smoothness and grace of his movements as he struck down the  
third demon. As the fourth took care to sneak up from behind, the  
black haired human turned aptly and hit the assailant with what would  
have otherwise been a winding blow. As it was, he merely knocked the  
darkling aside, setting up for his next attack. She desired further  
time to converse with Akari, so she breathed a simple spell, summoning  
another half-dozen shadowlings.  
  
'I don't understand, my phoenix,' Akari stated plainly, not noticing  
the additional opponents. Or, simply not caring.  
  
:He's good; she observed, closing her mind from that of her love.  
  
'Do you remember? We watched Beryl's senshi continuously fail against  
them?'  
  
:Good enough to best Akari-san?: She shook her head. :Such  
foolishness. He is a mortal. No mortal has ever beaten my love:  
  
'Hai,' Akari growled. 'Fools, every one.'  
  
'It wasn't entirely their fault. They came so close, and each time the  
senshi grew in strength.'  
  
'Hmm, true.'  
  
'It is their will to survive. Their spirit. No matter how hard they  
are knocked down, it gives them the strength to get up again.'  
  
Silence overtook them again. She knew Akari was not pleased with her  
observations, as they interfered with his want to combat the powerful  
human warrior, and she almost felt badly. Yet, Uraki had encouraged  
her to analyze the situation. It was her responsibility to see that  
they did not fail! Moreover, Akari would have plenty of time to  
challenge the young Xalia.  
  
'My love, is that why you have instructed our gem-beasts to take  
sexual advantage of the child as much as possible? I did not  
understand that, either. She is pretty, perhaps, but I cannot see what  
is accomplished by molesting her. Moreover, how could she deserve such  
vile treatment?'  
  
As Yanei gazed at her mate, she both realized, and felt, that he was  
genuine in his confusion. He did not understand the concept of rape.  
She frowned, averted her gaze, grateful she had closed her mind. It  
was something she indeed understood, and had experienced. Uraki-Ayo  
had been careful to place her with one who treated her with such  
support, and gentility, during the period of her physical and  
emotional recovery. She owed Akari very much, even though he did not  
realize it, and never may.  
  
'My love, she doesn't. But Uraki-Ayo wants her out of the way... It  
would hurt her emotionally Akari-san,' she stated clinically, removing  
herself from the fact of the matter. Truth was, the very idea of the  
action she had taken left her with sallow reflective nightmares of  
that night. She had prayed forgiveness, and had received guidance to  
merely let her feelings subside.  
  
:Flitting chance of that; she thought bitterly against her rising  
sense of guilt. :I do not hate her, but she is an interference! There  
is naught I can do!:  
  
'So?'  
  
'Oh? Ah, um, it is more intimidating to face the fear of rape.  
Violence is a simple matter one really must only heal from physically.  
Rape affects the innermost part of one's personality, and scars. She  
will be less willing to fight them, making matters far easier for us,  
my sweet. Even though the none of them actually will force her. It is  
a mere scare tactic.'  
  
Internally, she shuddered at the mentioning of it, but held her gaze  
upon Akari, who had such peace in his eyes that she was comforted. His  
nod was almost a bow, and she accepted it, knowing he was once again  
paying respect for her intelligence, for which he was greatly in debt.  
Gradually, her fleeting interest returned to the fighting warrior, as  
he neared the battle's termination. Briefly, searching his heart, as  
only she could, she came to see that it was bound most powerfully to  
another.  
  
:Of course. He loves that moon girl, Tsukino. Even if he was to defeat  
Akari, I could not have him. He would not love me as Akari does: She  
closed her eyes. :I tire of this. I will help Akari-san to end it:  
  
Abruptly she realized that the battle had ended. The beautiful male  
human had defeat the darklings, sending them back to their native  
realm. Home.  
  
'Now I will challenge him,' Akari decided, sitting forward.  
  
Yanei put a hand on his arm, halting him.  
  
'No, my beloved. Why do we not send him to his senshi? We will waste  
no more time. Perhaps it may break his spirit as well.'  
  
He gazed at her, an uncertainty on his face. Consideration dwelled for  
some time in the minuscule reaches of his mind.  
  
'Hai, my love!' he agreed, a smile creeping across his well muscled  
face. 'We will send him to the Earth, to find his senshi, and be lost  
with them! You are a most worthy woman Yanei,' Akari offered from the  
core of his being. 'Most beautiful, and most loving.'  
  
He stood, kissed her again, lingering a moment, and then approached  
the edge of the ice platform. Her smile was complete, a fulfilling  
warmth alighting within her slender frame.  
  
'Well fought,' Akari smiled approvingly. 'Too bad I won't get to  
challenge you myself.'  
  
Tuxedo Kamen glared at him icily.  
  
'Oh really? You afraid of losing to me?' he snarled with a slight  
grin.  
  
'I fear no such thing. What I do have, is a matter of much interest to  
you, mortal.' He pointed towards the pool of seeing. Tuxedo Kamen  
approached the limpid waters warily, unsure of the intent.  
  
'Mamoru-kun!' a voice cried.  
  
Tuxedo Kamen turned towards the source of the voice.  
  
'Luna-chan? Artemis-kun?'  
  
The two small cats stopped as they realized who else was in the room.  
  
'Akari! Yanei! What have you done!'  
  
Yanei sniffed, indicating her distaste of cats.  
  
'We are showing your Earth Guardian his senshi.'  
  
Luna thought; :she must be lying. How could she know?:  
  
'Don't think you're fooling us Yanei!' The dark blue haired feline  
growled determinedly.  
  
Artemis whispered to her; 'look at her, pretty kitty, I don't think  
she's bluffing.'  
  
Luna looked back at him.  
  
'Do I look like I'm bluffing?' she snarled. Artemis conceded, a stern  
expression on his face.  
  
'Foolish mortal. Look to the image, see what it will show you,' Yanei  
snapped impatiently.  
  
Mamoru glanced nervously at Luna, who did not appear to even see him,  
and then at the pool. He was not quite sure what he was seeing. After  
several moments, he slowly came to recognize a scene. It was a dock.  
There were... he squinted, eleven girls, only five standing. As he  
watched them, one of the five in what he recognized to be the uniforms  
of the Bishojo Sailor Senshi shot the remaining two in skin tight body  
suits. Mamoru trained his eyes on the pair of blond haired girls, not  
believing what he saw.  
  
'No...' he started. Her odango atama - the dumplings of blond strands  
- hairstyle could not be mistaken. Mamoru did not want to see the hole  
where her shoulder should be. He did not want to think about the  
ensuing implications. Facing the possibility of that reality was  
almost worse than having lost them.  
  
'Usako!' he cried, tears rising to his eyes unexpectedly.  
  
'Mamoru-kun no! It's a trick!' Luna implored, quite certain she had  
lost him already to the image he saw, whatever it was. She studied  
him. Was he crying? As he watched, the girl wielding the weapon  
continued firing. In his heart, he knew it was them. His Senshi. His  
Sailors. They were alive.  
  
'If you wish to join your beloved, be our guest. All you have to do is  
touch the pool of seeing,' Yanei offered, knowing he was sold to her  
proposition already.  
  
'Mamoru-kun!' Luna snapped in a panic, 'You can't abandon the mission  
like this!'  
  
'I'm supposed to protect the Moon Princess,' Mamoru said in uneven  
tones. 'How can I protect the one I love if I'm not with her?'  
  
Luna looked at Artemis, hoping he had an answer. He did, but it was  
not one she expected.  
  
'He can't go alone, Luna-chan,' he said coolly.  
  
For the first time in her feline life she did not know what to say.  
She knew, however, that she had no choice now. If the Moon Princess  
was alive, she had to be next to her, to guide her, and protect her.  
  
'Mamoru-kun!' Luna snapped, frightened and uncertain. 'We're coming  
with you.'  
  
Mamoru nodded, and picked them up in his arms. He gazed solidly at  
Akari.  
  
'If this is a trick, demon, I will return and destroy you both.'  
  
Akari was having a hard time not looking smug. In one fell swoop, they  
had won the battle for the NegaVerse!  
  
'I assure you, it is no trick.'  
  
Mamoru gave him a hard look, then turned and reached toward the water  
of the pool. For a moment he felt wetness surround his fingers before  
the world about him swirled and faded.  
  
He landed on his stomach. The voices were clear to him before he  
became aware of his location.  
  
'Die!'  
  
'Usagi-chan...'  
  
'No!'  
  
Despite his weariness, he fought his way to his feet. He opened his  
eyes, his vision blurred and fogged. Slowly, as it came into focus, he  
saw them. Usagi lay in Minako's arms, her face bruised and dirty, a  
dark looking gap in her shoulder the only remnant of her left arm.  
Minako was in tears, Rei and Ami were hurt, and lay motionless at the  
edge of the dock. Makoto appeared to be the only one left standing.  
Mamoru wanted to run to them, to protect them, to fight whatever it  
was they were up against.  
  
But he could not make himself move. Whether it was shock, fear, or  
something else, Mamoru could not seem to get his mind to work to  
figure it out.  
  
'Mamoru-kun...' a familiar voice whispered weakly. He looked down. In  
the place that Luna had fallen, there was a small humanoid woman. She  
had long black hair, and a long, slender form. Beside her was a white  
haired man. He had neither clothes nor consciousness. The woman had  
the latter, but not the former.  
  
'Luna-chan?' Mamoru dropped to his knees, confused, angered, and lost.  
He did not know what to do.  
  
Just as his mind began to toss with the revelations brought, an  
explosion consumed the small dock. 


	15. Luna and Artemis; Revelations

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 14: Luna and Artemis; Revelations  
  
Luna awoke with a start, feeling a hand trace her hip roughly. Shock,  
fear, and a feeling of loss brought her to panic. She got to her feet  
quickly, immediately defensive, forcing down the feeling of panic,  
along with the other emotions swelling inside of her. Slowly, the  
panic subsided. Her gaze told her this was not home, that Mamoru had  
accepted Akari and Yanei's offer, and that her nightmare of the last  
month was indeed true. It also indicated to her the close proximity of  
a very well-muscled human.  
  
"So what's ya gonna do darlin'?" he taunted with a leer. The  
realization that she was human, and that she was naked, brought the  
panic back.  
  
That is when she noticed Artemis. He was also unclothed, and  
apparently unconscious. She felt someone reach up behind her and grab  
her arms, holding their hands in a lock behind her head, with her arms  
looped through. The man advanced on her, a dark expression on his  
face. She gave with a whimper as the man before he drew his hand  
across her face in a blur.  
  
"Yer gonna take it nice 'n quiet bitch," he snarled, undoing his  
pants. "Y' make a noise and I'll cut yer fuckin' tongue out."  
  
Luna thrashed and twisted against her captor's grasp. His thick fist  
smacked soundly against her cheek, leaving a dark bruise. Then, a  
second collided with her stomach. Only the man holding kept her from  
doubling over. He could not, nor cared to restrain the tears that  
followed.  
  
Time blurred with the violence that followed. Fortunately for Luna,  
neither man had a taste for violence that did not involve guns.  
Despite that, she was nearly numb by the time the first entered her.  
The numbness helped little, for they where as forceful in their act of  
rape as they had been in beating her. The smattering of violence and  
evil that took Luna then was a clear personification of the state of  
the world in which they now existed. What possessed passerbys beyond  
the depth of the alley to not respond to her screams in violation she  
could never know. Perhaps it was the fear of greater forces; the  
Coalition. It was her sense of this beyond the agony of the attack  
that frightened her the most.  
  
On a conscious level she did not care about that. It was only a  
calling in the back of her blurred mind. All she registered then, was  
the attack of the men upon her. Even as the second took his liberties  
of her, tears came forth as she had never known them to. Emotions  
struck and crumbled. She pleaded, and was not heard.  
  
Artemis' green eyes slowly crept open, and with them, a grasp rose to  
his lips.  
  
'Luna-chan,' he muttered. Abruptly aware of his change, he startled at  
his own voice, his feelings, and his human form. Anger grew so sharply  
within him that he moved to action before he was aware of it. One of  
the two saw him move, and struck with a fist, sure that it would knock  
him back. The white haired man ducked the strike easily, and returned  
it, with such fury that the man flew against a far wall. He collapsed  
to the ground unconscious, his chest collapsed. Artemis' fury only  
grew. He turned towards Luna's assailant. The man regarded him,  
stepping back from the pallid, beaten form of the young woman. Luna  
dropped the ground like a pile of bricks, emotional agony writhing in  
the core of her being as tears poured forth.  
  
'Kaibutsu,' Artemis snarled in Japanese, vaguely aware that the man  
only understood his rage. Such was it that he did not bother to  
translate his words to English. He reached forward and grabbed the  
scrawny man by the neck, holding him aloft. 'Bastard!'  
  
"I..." he gagged at Artemis' iron-like grasp. Though he could barely  
understand the indiscernible furious natter of the albino's native  
tongue, he understood the straining blade of Morcanis. This guy must  
be one of his!  
  
"I..." he choked and struggled to swallow. "I don't have...' he  
gasped, 'the money!"  
  
'Curse you! You... you...' he stammered angrily, unable to retrieve  
the words to meet the uncanny rage in his soul. 'I will kill you!'  
  
Artemis pointed sharply to the bruise marked frame of Luna as he spoke  
in short, biting lengths, and the man frightened further, paling  
dramatically.  
  
"Oh man! Hey, I din' know she was yers! I wouldn'da touched 'er if  
I'da known!"  
  
Thoughts flooded through his mind as heated fury threatened to  
overtake him as it never had before. He should kill this man for  
raping Luna. Then the rebuttal. Should he? Was it right for him to  
take his life for hurting her? His emotion cried; hai, his reason  
spoke; iye. He threw the man towards the other. Artemis paid little  
attention to either of them, stepping over to the wan form of the  
scathed young woman. He could not recall seeing her as human before,  
and it hurt him that he must see her after being violated so. He  
touched her cheek, feeling the drying tears upon it. As he did, her  
eyes drifted slowly open. When they focused upon him, she began  
sobbing again.  
  
'Artemis-kun, please...!' she whispered in faint and desperate  
Japanese, hands held to her face.  
  
He hushed her.  
  
'They are gone. Do not speak.'  
  
She did not seem to hear him. He grasped her wrists gently, prying  
them from her face.  
  
'Luna-chan! Please...! I will not hurt you.' Still, she did not  
relent, holding back from him for the desperate passage of several  
moments. Finally, she reached to him. He took her up against his chest  
and let her cry. For some time her tears came forth. Artemis held  
firmly to her, for she seemed to draw on his strength.  
  
A voice behind him spoke clearly in Japanese:  
  
'I can help you.'  
  
Artemis gazed quickly about, eyes narrowed. He spied a young woman  
with blue and silver hair. She wore a long dress of blue silk, and  
watched with calm, warm eyes. Her jade eyes displayed concern, and  
sympathy. Artemis could sense that she was not of evil intent. That,  
he knew, meant little. Luna's rapists were not wholly evil, but it  
made what they had done no less wrong.  
  
'Come,' she continued, 'I will not harm you.'  
  
'If I learn you are lying to me...' Artemis began as he stood slowly.  
  
'Warning taken,' she replied. 'Will you be alright to walk,  
Luna-chan?'  
  
She regarded the young woman empathetically. Luna shook her head; no.  
Artemis picked her up in his arms, holding her with the genteel of a  
father, or a lover. Her eyes formed a question, though she did not  
speak.  
  
'Do not worry, just rest. Hai,' Artemis ordered. He then turned to  
face the woman with a cold, stagnant expression on his face. 'How do  
you know us?'  
  
'I am very,' the woman started in reply, 'observant.' She glanced  
about, looking wary. 'Come, we must hurry. Others will come soon.'  
  
'If you saw what they did, then why did you not stop them?' he asked  
as they began walking. She did not look back to what she knew would be  
an angry glare.  
  
'I only arrived at the last moment, and you had subdued them. I am  
most sorry.'  
  
Saying nothing, he merely gazed at Luna. They walked through the  
alleyways, avoiding the street. Artemis noticed that any others they  
encountered gave this strange woman plenty of space, while they  
grinned and leered at the two who followed. At one point, however, a  
rough hewn man dressed in denim and leather pulled out a switchblade  
and strode directly towards her. The woman did not stop. He sneered  
and blocked her path. Only then did she halt. She raised a hand. There  
was a flash, and the man stumbled backwards like a handful of filthy  
rags, falling into a nearby pile of trash, unmoving. Without comment,  
she bid them proceed.  
  
After a time of silence, Artemis asked, 'Do you have a name?'  
  
She did not respond immediately.  
  
'You may call me Katrin.'  
  
The rest of the relatively short distance they covered lacked  
conversation. There did not seem to be a need for it. Even so, Artemis  
would not have known what to say to this strange woman.  
  
'Luna-chan, how are you feeling?' he asked. If Katrin heard him, he  
did not care. He was too concerned about Luna. She merely gazed at  
him, saying nothing. In her face he read fear, pain, and other  
emotions he knew choked her words. To some extent he could understand;  
he was having a very difficult time knowing what to say, or how to  
deal with what had happened. This, he realized, was negligible, when  
compared to her emotional state. Not that he understood the faintest  
hint about that. He was not going to pretend he had any idea what she  
was feeling. As they walked, she clung to him. Artemis was not sure  
why, again, she did, but was not about to question it. Nor was he  
about to refuse her.  
  
'We are here,' the woman announced softly.  
  
'Where is here?' Artemis asked.  
  
'My shoppe, and your sanctuary, if you care to accept it.'  
  
Artemis nodded reluctantly. What choice was there, after all?  
  
---  
  
'So what brings you to England, Artemis-san?' Katrin asked, handing  
him a drink. Luna had refused the offer of food, saying she was not  
hungry. They were both dressed in loose fitting shirts, pants, and  
robes of cotton. Luna in pale yellow, and Artemis in light blue.  
  
Artemis looked somewhat offended.  
  
'England?' he replied with undisguised shock. 'We are from Tokyo.'  
  
Katrin merely shrugged. She was not one to waste words. Artemis shook  
his head. Additional confusion, just what he wanted.  
  
'A pair of demons from the NegaVerse.'  
  
Whether or not she reacted to him, in surprise, or disbelief, Artemis  
was not sure. He did know, however, that she was listening.  
  
'But that doesn't matter. We need to find a friend.'  
  
Katrin gazed at the sleeping form of Luna.  
  
'She needs help,' she said softly. 'Medical attention, at the very  
least.'  
  
'I can help her. Mamoru can help her.'  
  
'Mamoru? Who is that?' she asked. Artemis described him, not  
mentioning the part of Tuxedo Kamen. 'Is he a doctor? What does he  
know about your situation?'  
  
'Nothing, Katrin-sama, but it is all we have to go on.'  
  
She nodded.  
  
'You are new to this world.'  
  
'To this time-line,' he agreed.  
  
She arched a slight eyebrow.  
  
'You are from the past?'  
  
'Hai. A different past, I think,' he stated, gazing - a wash of anger  
and pain touching him - at Luna's pale form.  
  
'One past may turn out many futures,' Katrin observed. Her eyes  
followed his gaze. 'She will survive, but not without you.'  
  
Artemis looked at her, a painfully frustrated expression that  
indicated he was at a complete loss.  
  
Katrin was nigh painfully blunt; 'I know what is in your heart. She  
is, and so is Minako.'  
  
Artemis was again struck by two things, surprise, and uncertainty. The  
latter he could do little about; back at home, he had control,  
knowledge of what life was sure to have in store. Here, he did not  
have that. All he had was Luna. The former, however, he discovered he  
really was not interested in. So Katrin could read his mind. That did  
not bother him. His helplessness in dealing with Luna, on the other  
hand, troubled him deeply.  
  
'Is there somewhere I can sleep?' he asked, getting to his feet  
wearily. Katrin pointed to an adjacent room.  
  
'Leave Luna-chan,' she said, 'she is safe there. In the morning, I  
will have someone attend to her.'  
  
'That would be best,' Artemis agreed, though not sure he trusted her  
definition of 'safe.' He walked over to Luna, and stopped before  
waking her. She looked so calm, at peace. Awake, she seemed vague, and  
afraid. He found he could not gather the nerve to rouse her. He  
glanced back at Katrin.  
  
'After that, we will leave.'  
  
The woman said nothing, she only nodded.  
  
---  
  
The morning came, and the parting soon after. Luna had suffered no  
more than bruising, and some minor scarring. She had been, after all,  
a virgin no more than minutes into her newly metamorphosed form. She  
refused the offer of breakfast, insisting that she was not hungry,  
again. Artemis spoke once, but kept his remaining unvoiced concerns  
thereafter, while he ate. They had been provided with the most basic  
of necessities for survival in this world. Some of these items  
included garlic, wooden steaks, and mallets. The remaining two items  
they were told were given for as much use with their tents as a way to  
destroy vampires. Not that there were many vampires in the British  
Isles, Katrin elaborated.  
  
Artemis had feigned indifference. In truth, the blatant unknowns of  
this world frightened him. He was finding it difficult to adjust to  
the lack of a basic knowledge of the world around them.  
  
They had been walking around in New Camelot for some hours, and were  
surprised to learn of the existence of one King Arr'thuu, and others  
who appeared to be the Knights of the Round Table. Artemis puzzled at  
the use of new technology in an Age of Knights, and further still at  
what that technology was. Luna expressed little interest in any of it,  
speaking only when addressed, and sometimes not even then.  
  
As they walked through the Open Market, one sun warmed day, she asked  
a question that startled him.  
  
"Have I troubled you greatly?" in heavily accented English, and at  
that particular moment, her voice was even, and somewhat unemotional.  
  
Artemis did not know what to say, so he said this: "I care about you."  
  
"Then I have."  
  
From her tone, Artemis was sure that she was quite serious in her  
words. He was entirely lost in how to respond. Luna gazed at him for a  
few moments, then returned to her wistful calmness.  
  
It had only been two days, but Artemis was slowly becoming frustrated  
with his inability to wrest some sense of control over their  
situation. There was little point in talking to Luna. She offered the  
least of assistance. Everything was a source of trouble, or rather,  
unrest, for him. Whether it was Luna, Katrin, Mamoru, or the senshi,  
Artemis did not have any answers. Luna was an emotional wreck, he was  
sure, and the only way he knew to help her was to find some point of  
familiarity; the senshi, and Mamoru. That led to his other problem. He  
did not know where they were, or even if they were still alive. Katrin  
might be able to help. She had offered her assistance, and that of her  
husband, Randy. However, Artemis found himself still unable to trust  
her, despite her apparent warmth and unmasked anxiousness in providing  
what they needed most; sanctuary. It was partially related to  
frustration he felt at not being able to protect her himself. Beyond  
that, Mamoru was just as lost as the others, so that avenue led to as  
much an unknown street as the rest.  
  
Another day passed. No rumors about anyone who sounded like the  
senshi. Artemis resorted to menial labor to provide for their limited  
financial needs, while he struggled with the idea of going back and  
taking Katrin up on her offer of sanctuary and assistance. They could  
certainly do worse, he hoped. Luna just nodded when he mentioned this  
to her. She offered little or no argument with what Artemis provided  
for her.  
  
She did not seem to care anymore.  
  
---  
  
The day was musky, warm, and a constantly soft breeze kept the weather  
from being unbearable. They had been walking most of the day, as  
Artemis had only reached his decision roughly a pair of hours ago. At  
that point, they were still a fair distance away from Katrin's shoppe.  
They were in the outskirts of New Camelot, and Artemis took scant  
notice of others. One of the few he noticed, however, he felt  
misgivings about. As usual, he did not consult Luna.  
  
:Best not to let her be troubled by my apprehensions; he decided.  
Artemis had first perceived this man when they had been in the Open  
Market. He had been mulling about a fisher's stand, across from them,  
buying assorted supplies. One of which he noted, was a rather sizable  
fishing net.  
  
Artemis had first become aware of the stalking when they had stopped  
to buy lunch. Luna had started eating again, after almost two days,  
and Artemis had only been too eager to provide. He recognized the dark  
silk robe from earlier, his hood, and the distinct markings on the  
sleeves, and neck of his apparel. Luna had not seemed to notice. He  
guessed she had been too preoccupied with her food. Artemis hardly  
argued. It was the most she had eaten in days.  
  
Artemis was somehow struck by the idea that this man wanted him to  
know that they were being followed. Why? He certainly was not playing  
possum anymore, so there was hardly any question. In frustration,  
Artemis grabbed Luna's arm and pulled them into an alley.  
  
"Why did you do that?" Luna asked.  
  
Artemis was glad to hear her voice again, even if she did sound  
insecure.  
  
"I'm pretty sure we're being followed."  
  
"You mean the man in the black robe?" she replied. "I know."  
  
Artemis looked surprised. Luna gazed at him, but remained silent.  
  
"Bloody well took ya long enough aye," commented a voice with a light  
celtic accent.  
  
Artemis' form blurred as he turned on one foot. Directly in front of  
him stood a man, roughly five feet in height, with black hair and  
brown eyes. He looked like a hawk waiting for his kill. Without  
thinking, Artemis reached for him. The man dodged easily, as if  
expecting the grasp.  
  
"Not smart," the man stated, drawing his hand out of his robe, and  
pressing it to the white haired man's side. Artemis gasped and fell to  
the ground, still, as if frozen. Luna cried out, and tried to dodge  
the forthcoming attack. With a groan, she crumbled to the earthy  
floor.  
  
The man sighed.  
  
"Mind ya, it's not as though you got a' choice..."  
  
---  
  
Reality blurred into a vague sense of focus. He felt nothing but a  
dull pain in his ribs.  
  
:What happened?; he asked himself.  
  
It flooded back like the insistent wash of greyish surf. Luna was  
depressed. They were both lost. He had decided to take them to Katrin,  
who might be able to help them locate the Sailor Senshi. They had been  
on their way there when he had realized they were being followed...  
  
"Well, good ya finally joined us, aye?" a voice said calmly. Artemis  
tried to shake the darkness from his mind. The fog persisted, keeping  
him from thinking clearly. "Blimey, that was a disappointin' fight.  
Next toim, if wanna win, you gotta play smart."  
  
Though, something in the assuredness of his voice told Artemis that  
this man was used to winning. He sounded comfortable in the knowledge  
of it. Sluggishly, Artemis became aware of his predicament, and the  
fact that he was alone.  
  
"Luna-chan..." he mumbled faintly, sitting up in the cage.  
  
The man chuckled.  
  
"Yeah, you got't. She's yea," he paused, "mo'ivation. Me'n my huntas  
'r track 'er down, 'n you too. Issa game y'see. O'ever lives, wins.  
Real plain, see."  
  
'I will kill you if you've hurt her!' Artemis snarled.  
  
'Do itashimashite Artemis,' he replied casually in shoddy Japanese.  
"Mind ya, that's all I know. But... y'see, that part'a why ya here. We  
don' get game from Japan, ehm, 'specially Mind Mel'as." His pause  
caused a faint intolerant glare to settle on the war scattered  
features of the man's indentured face.  
  
Artemis' green eyes followed the man as he approached a pair of grand  
doors.  
  
"Let's maike no mistaike, this ain' fair. Wouldn' be no fun that waiy.  
Though, ehm, you do staind a great chance'a winnin' hea. So, ehm, good  
luk." Before passed through the doors, he added: "Eoh. You go'  
exactly..." he tapped a wristwatch raised to his lowered gaze, "...one  
minute t' ge' out'a thea befo' it crushes yea."  
  
The great oak doors closed, and silence suddenly became quite  
overwhelming. He fell into a trance, knowing the only way out was to  
risk teleportation. He knew he could get himself killed, teleporting  
without a preset destination, but he did not have any other  
alternative. Luna's life was at stake. Letting his mind focus onto the  
trace of Luna's aura felt, while the energy coalesced within him, he  
prayed he had enough time.  
  
He felt the cool musky air of the outside world around him. He opened  
his eyes. A forest? Perhaps he had a chance after all.  
  
:Now; he thought, to focus on Luna. :Where are you my love?:  
  
---  
  
He had been running for what felt like hours, with no favorable  
results. His powers helped little, he discovered. Jumping was no good.  
A short leap had revealed him to one hunter who had seemed to be quite  
the marksman. Limping made already cumbersome two-legged travel even  
more so. He almost hated being human. As a cat, he would have had no  
trouble negotiating the hundreds of slightly unearthed roots. On the  
other hand, being human had a number of advantages. The most obvious  
of which to him at that point were combat abilities. He doubted he  
would have been able to defeat that hunter in his feline form, or wear  
his armor.  
  
He held the hunter's energy weapon, not knowing how to use it, other  
than by relying on the obvious method; pulling the rather  
self-apparent trigger. Better to risk not being able to use the weapon  
to full effectiveness rather than being unarmed.  
  
His enhanced strength - by which he was most satisfactorily impressed  
- had proved to be worthless as well. What good were a few uprooted  
trees? The trees proved to be little help in anything but hiding.  
There were plenty of them, but nowhere to go. Artemis was quickly  
becoming annoyed by the presence of trees. He hobbled onward, still  
reaching out for Luna's psychic presence.  
  
---  
  
She felt him. He was nearby. She struggled to her feet, cursing at the  
pains which wracked her body. There was a guttural growl.  
  
"Don't move," a slightly muffled voice commanded. Luna felt a very  
primal anger rise within her. Her mind began to clear. The frustration  
and pain fled as she thought of Artemis, as she realized the nature of  
the creature standing in her way.  
  
She hissed, "I will move if I want to." Her blue eyes narrowed, her  
hackles risen. "Get out of my way!"  
  
The dog-faced humanoid regarded the woman warily, teeth bared.  
  
"No."  
  
She paused for a moment.  
  
"What did you just say?"  
  
"No!" There was an undeniable nervousness in the creature's voice. For  
a moment the young woman did not know what to do. She reeled slightly,  
an unreasoning fear gripping her. She cried out angrily at this.  
  
:Enough!; her mind screamed. :I will not be a...: "victim any longer!"  
  
The hound faced male took several steps back at her outcry.  
  
"Stupid dog! Don't you talk to me that way!" she snapped harshly,  
neither impressed nor intimidated.  
  
"I'm sorry! Don't hurt me!" the dog boy replied fearfully. "Master  
just told me to watch you!" He raised his gauntleted hands  
protectively.  
  
Luna's voice was quiet when she spoke.  
  
"That's better. He did? Well..." she hesitated. "You can watch me if  
you want to. I'm going to find Artemis." She turned away from the dog.  
He walked around to stand in front of her.  
  
"I'm not supposed to let you do that."  
  
She snarled at him potently, her entire sore body tensing. He  
recoiled.  
  
"I'm sorry! But I don't want Master to get mad at me!"  
  
"Right now I'd worry more about me being mad at you, I think."  
  
He backed away from her, indicating that he clearly did. She started  
to leave, then something occurred to her.  
  
"Give me your knife," she ordered, palm open.  
  
He faltered.  
  
"Now!"  
  
Abruptly the weapon moved from his scabbard to her hand. She smiled  
falsely. "Good boy."  
  
He simply looked scared. She turned around and followed the sense of  
Artemis. The humanoid dog did indeed follow her, evidently trying to  
keep to his master's orders. Luna barely noticed him. She was too  
preoccupied with the fading psionic trace of Artemis. She wanted to  
run, but knew she was in no shape to do it. Cavell had not been  
terribly gentle in his explanations. She shut her mind from that,  
doing her best not to recall the unpleasant experience.  
  
Eventually, her mind wandered back to the presence of the strange dog  
creature. He stood tall like a human, but was built much like a dog.  
His haunches kept him from standing completely upright. His body was  
completely fur-covered, as far as Luna cared to discern. She dwelt on  
him. He was nice, basically. He was merely trying to obey his master.  
What was wrong with that? Everything, as she saw it. His master wanted  
to keep her from Artemis. Luna was not about to put up with it. It was  
a good thing the dog was a basset hound. With any other breed she  
might have had trouble.  
  
"Do you have a name?"  
  
He glanced at her, not quite sure how to respond.  
  
"Thomas," he replied uneasily. She nodded and smiled.  
  
"Thomas. I'm not going to hurt you. You're a good boy, Thomas. It's  
alright." He appeared to be pleased by this resolution. It was clear  
to her that Thomas did not desire to hurt anyone. He only wanted to  
please whomever he was with.  
  
"Is your master nice to you?" she asked, genuinely curious.  
  
Reluctantly, he replied, "I-i guess."  
  
Her eyebrows knitted.  
  
"You mean you're not sure?"  
  
"Sometimes Master hits me... but he says it's because I'm bad." His  
ears drooped slightly. "If I wasn't bad he wouldn't have to hit me."  
  
Luna suddenly felt badly for him. He mistreated Thomas like he had  
her.  
  
"Why does he say you're bad?"  
  
He was reluctant again.  
  
"He wants me to hurt humans, and other dees. I don't want to. When I  
don't obey he..."  
  
"Dees?"  
  
"Like you. Dimenson... um, diamon..." he stumbled over a few variants  
of the word before Luna stopped him.  
  
"You mean 'dimension,' right? Dimensional beings?"  
  
He nodded. "Dees, and humans."  
  
"All of them?" she inquired, prodding gently.  
  
"No. Just the ones he doesn't like."  
  
She started to ask him another question.  
  
"Wait," he said, ears perking slightly. "I hear something."  
  
She cursed her human hearing as her eyes searched about. It was  
Artemis, he was close... so close. A figure in what appeared to be  
body armor jumped out from a thick of brush to their right. In one  
hand it awkwardly held what seemed to be a futuristic style rifle as  
it limped slightly towards them. Thomas growled menacingly, and  
stepped up in front of Luna, who balked, confused and panicked.  
  
"Luna...?" The voice was unsteady, tired and rough. Luna's eyes  
widened, and Thomas' growl deepened.  
  
"Thomas... it's alright," she issued faintly as she ran up to Artemis,  
emotions sparking within, making her eyes burn with tears. Slipping  
off his helmet, he accepted her to his arms, like a blessing.  
Empathetically, Luna whispered; "Ssh."  
  
Thomas paced as the two embraced, unsure of what to do with himself.  
  
"Luna?" he asked uncertainly. She looked at him, her head on Artemis'  
padded shoulder.  
  
"The other hunters might come. Master will come for sure!"  
  
Luna and Artemis broke their embrace, hands remaining joined.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Thomas did not answer, looking somewhat sheepish.  
  
"Tell me," she said firmly.  
  
"You're not dead." He looked upset merely to speak it.  
  
Luna bowed her head.  
  
"Why can't he just leave us alone?" Her voice was hushed and weak.  
  
Artemis took her shoulders in his hands.  
  
"We will find a way out of here, Luna-chan. I refuse to give up." He  
looked at the dog boy. "Do you know of something that can get us off  
this island?"  
  
Thomas spent a few moments in obvious consideration.  
  
"Master has a whirly-chopter at the house."  
  
Artemis nodded.  
  
"A helicopter. Good." He looked at Luna, finding her head still bowed.  
He took her chin in his hands. Hesitantly, her eyes met his in gaze.  
  
"We've made it this far. Luna-chan... are you with me?"  
  
She swallowed, then nodded.  
  
"Hai, Artemis-kun."  
  
"We will survive this," he proclaimed. For several moments his gaze  
set in hers. "For the princess."  
  
"Let's go, Artemis," Luna said in hushed tones.  
  
---  
  
The trek to the castle was surprisingly short. Artemis surmised that  
he must have been traveling in circles. Perhaps the island was not as  
big as he had thought. Only two problems, rather, hunters, presented  
themselves. Artemis and Thomas handled the first with little trouble.  
Superhuman strength apparently overwhelmed the endurance of body armor  
in rather short order. The second, however, presented more of a  
problem, delaying them a full six minutes longer than they both  
expected. He was, after all, a mentally bereft Crazy.  
  
Luna stayed out of the way on both occasions, avoiding battle. Artemis  
refused to let himself worry about it. His solitary concern was her  
safety. If she did not want to fight, he was not going to argue. After  
the third obstacle finally fell, they entered the chamber which Thomas  
indicated led to the helicopter. Inside, they found a silver encrusted  
throne, the back of which displayed a poetically beautiful serpentine  
dragon. The dragon was also reflected on the great wall behind the  
throne, carved strenuously in black marble. The work would have  
brought awe to the onlookers, who barely noticed the magnificent work  
for the man below it.  
  
"Well, I say, didn't 'xactly expect this," said Cavell calmly, "but,  
ehm, I'm very impressed, yea. Ownly one go' this far. Mind ya, she  
din' win 'ither."  
  
He turned on the raised steps of the throne, and walked off to one  
side, towards a delicately detailed collection of runes embedded in a  
square section of wall, like a three-dimensional painting.  
  
"So I stuck 'er in thea."  
  
:Eternal entrapment! He is lying; Luna rasped in thought. :That can't  
be!:  
  
Even as these thoughts surfaced, she felt a presence within the  
intricate red-grey stones. Fear, hatred, and pain caused her to reel,  
and tears to well in the back of her eyes.  
  
"No!" she whispered. "You bastard..." she stepped back into Artemis'  
arms, and fought her tears.  
  
"You," Cavell snapped, pointing towards the suddenly scared dog boy.  
"Not impressed. No. You screwed up, 'n betraiyed me. For tha', I cast  
ya outta 'm pack."  
  
Thomas looked already crushed.  
  
"Master... no..."  
  
"Yea! I trusted you! Wuha' I get? Betrayul!" He looked fiercely angry.  
"No toleraten' tha'."  
  
Thomas stepped back, emotionally torn.  
  
"You don't mean that."  
  
"The 'ell I don'!"  
  
Thomas turned away, but refused to leave. Cavell turned his attention  
back to the now sobbing Luna, and savage looking Artemis.  
  
"Y'know, this ain' been worth i'. I'll hava kill you, jus' t' braike  
even."  
  
"Break even?!" Luna broke free abruptly from Artemis' warm hold. The  
intensity in her voice startled both the white and black haired men  
alike. It was the only thing they would ever share, aside from their  
humanity. Cavell snatched his energy pistol from the holster on his  
leg and pointed it at her.  
  
"You took someone veiry dear to mie. I loved 'im loike a son."  
  
Luna's anger boiled.  
  
"You believe that? Have you seen the way he trembles when yelled at?  
How he whimpers when he speaks of you?" She felt every muscle in her  
body tense. Only once before had she ever felt so strongly for anyone.  
It was that person she missed more than her innocence.  
  
"It's ova fo' ya," a hiss trailed behind her words as they ended,  
burning in his ears. "An you cain' stop mie!"  
  
He raised the weapon. Abruptly the seemingly listless Thomas moved  
with a speed Luna had not thought possible. He jumped at his former  
master, death in his eyes. Cavell pulled the trigger desperately as  
Thomas dug his claws into his throat, tearing it out. He gurgled, and  
died in a crimson splash. Thomas gave with a canine whimper and  
collapsed to the ground, unmoving.  
  
"Thomas!" she cried as she bolted to Thomas.  
  
"Why did you defend me? No one ever did that before," he uttered  
faintly as she cradled his head in her lap.  
  
Artemis moved up beside them as they spoke.  
  
"You remind me of a friend I care a great deal about," she said  
softly, in calm, mother-like tones.  
  
"Luna..."  
  
"I feel tired," Thomas muttered, the stain of crimson trailing over  
his arm and stomach. "I'm sorry Luna."  
  
"No... it's okay. Don't."  
  
'Luna-chan, let me see him, please?' Artemis requested gently. Luna  
nodded, and moved aside as Artemis attempted to gauge the damage done.  
A grave expression rested firmly upon his face as he stood from the  
limp creature.  
  
"Artemis-san...?" Luna pleaded.  
  
"I don't know. It looks bad," he said. "We need to get him back to  
Katrin, fast..."  
  
---  
  
Several hours later, they were aboard the helicopter. Luna's tears had  
dried. Thomas rest on a stretcher, holding his bandaged stomach, while  
a well set white cloth held his shoulder. After a great matter of  
fuddling with the controls, Artemis and Luna discovered both a manual  
(a miracle, to be sure), and a marked map indicating a path to the  
British Isles. Collaboratiion with Thomas (who had learned to read  
maps as part of the hunting game Cavell had entertained) gave Artemis  
the necessary information to make the trip.  
  
"Luna, did that man do anything do you?" Artemis asked tentatively.  
"How did you know about Thomas?"  
  
She was silent, eyes intent, locked upon the shallow breathing of her  
newfound friend.  
  
"Luna?"  
  
'Hai?' She was still caught in the grip of grief. It amazed her to  
feel so much for someone she had known for a very brief amount of  
time. Perhaps it was because she identified with him so strongly. He  
had been abused, and so had she.  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"He did the same to me," Luna stated evenly. The loss of control still  
scared her, but she felt that she was starting to come to terms with  
it. She had Artemis. Thomas, until their meeting, really had no one.  
  
Artemis found himself lost for words again, and thus breathed a  
frustrated sigh.  
  
"I feel bloody useless."  
  
"That's not true! I wouldn't be alive now if not for you."  
  
"Do you think they would have..."  
  
She cut him off with a gesture.  
  
"That's not what I meant. You've been here for me. Even when I  
wouldn't eat, or speak. You haven't left me alone, Artemis-san." She  
stood up and walked up behind the pilot's seat. "I've learned... I...  
I don't ever want to be alone again."  
  
Artemis smiled.  
  
"Are you sure, Luna-san? I mean... It's going to be a rough ride,  
pretty kitty."  
  
"Since when has that ever stopped me?" she said with sly smile,  
wrapping her arms around his neck gently and kissing his forehead. 


	16. A True Earth Guardian

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 15: A True Earth Guardian  
  
For well over a thousand years, the incredible example of nature sat  
there. The sheer size and total of inhabitants numbered into the  
thousands, equaling the population of major Coalition cities. Namely,  
Chi-Town. Chi-Town was a fortress-like city, the largest, and also the  
capital of Coalition society. Unlike Chi Town, this miracle of nature  
displayed no fear of the unknown environment about it. The hugely  
intricate form displayed only beauty, and strength. Mile long branches  
held massive baubles, homes for the many kind and welcome healers,  
warriors of good, and other champions of the future. What kind of mage  
could ignore the plainly sentient and highly magical nature of the  
tree?  
  
One young healer could not. It was the way of her life. To change, or  
forsake the gift of the tree would be to sacrifice her own existence.  
At this point, however, she was considering a sacrifice of another  
kind entirely. Why did Jenra trouble her like this? In the time she  
knew it would take her to reach her destination, she knew that a  
wounded man or woman could die, if the wound was bad enough. The  
thought of using her power came forth with a great measure of unease.  
  
:Catch a good look 'round; she thought. Even though she did not fear  
being ostracized, as she was well aware that the millennium tree would  
not allow such a thing, she did not want to jeopardize the normality  
of her life. The respect - the nigh worship - she knew her kind were  
always given was not something she desired.  
  
She scrambled up the seamless steps of wood. The walls kept a similar  
appearance, round, like the inside of a tube, as if grown that way.  
  
That much was true.  
  
:No; she decided, :I won't make light: - she chuckled - :of my powers:  
She aptly evaded others in her haste, knowing she could not spare any  
time. Pushing aside a curtain as she entered the spherical alcove, she  
halted, catching her breath as she regarded a middle aged woman with  
brown hair and a knowing smile.  
  
"What took you s' long Demelza?" the grey-robed woman asked, belaying  
a smirk.  
  
She bowed slightly.  
  
"I am sorry MasterHealer, but I was so far away..."  
  
Finally, her resolve failed her. Her green eyes lit with warm humor.  
  
"I am glad you did not give into an act of ill caution, shining one."  
  
The young woman sighed as she turned towards what appeared to be an  
adolescent male.  
  
"Who is he?" She ran her hands over him in assessment.  
  
"He is called 'Mamoru' by friends. He does not have any relatives  
here," the MasterHealer noted almost indifferently.  
  
Demelza heard those words fade into a dark silence as her trance set  
in, clearing all emotions and thoughts from her mind. A white field  
was all she conceived, letting his presence indicate what damage had  
been done. She did not even act in thought to search for pain, for it  
made itself quite evident to her.  
  
"'Tis internal," she noted calmly, nigh emotionless. "He is bleeding  
gravely. He's got broken ribs, a punctured lung, an' he will die  
anon." Her eyes snapped open abruptly. "Jenra, why did j'ye not tend  
'im?" She sounded more puzzled than angry, hesitant to question the  
motives of her mentor.  
  
"You know very well that your talent exceeds mine," Jenra replied  
calmly. Regarding her student with a stern look, she added: "Besides,  
I exhausted myself saving the life of that foolish prince."  
  
If those words sparked any reaction within her, she forced it down. It  
had to wait, for his life was quite literally in her hands. She  
cleared her mind again, observing the white veil in the core of her  
consciousness. She reached out, hands already lying on his chest,  
where the pain resided. In her mind she saw, as much as felt, the weak  
pumping of blood through his veins. He was not fighting. A despondency  
gripped him so tightly that he refused to give any effort for his  
survival.  
  
:Who are you?; his mind asked.  
  
:I am trying to save your life:  
  
:Don't bother:  
  
:An' why not lad? What puts you in such a dark emotional place?:  
  
:...:  
  
:You've lost someone close to ye:  
  
:Hai...:  
  
:I canna see that you've lost all hope for 'er:  
  
:...:  
  
:What of your circumstance? Sure it isn't so hopeless as all tha':  
  
:I was so close... just to lose her again!:  
  
:You love her, aye?:  
  
:Hai!:  
  
:I can see y've been though worse. What is different now, lad?:  
  
:We are alone, and on a strange world. How can I...:  
  
:An' what makes ya think that y'are really so alone? What would y' say  
if I told you I would help?:  
  
:What can I do?:  
  
:Start fighting:  
  
Minutes passed in seconds, reality blurred into emotions. When Mamoru  
opened his eyes, he felt the tears in them. Demelza sighed and fell  
forward on him.  
  
'Nani...?' Mamoru gasped.  
  
Demelza forced her eyes open, and dragged herself to her feet.  
  
"You're alive lad," she muttered. "See? There be hope, if ya jus' be  
willin' t'look."  
  
Mamoru was stunned into silence as he recognized her voice.  
  
'Domo,' he murmured. 'Domo arigatao Dem-chan.'  
  
"Please, Mamoru, in English, if ye don't mind, aye? My Japanese is  
very weak."  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Ah, so sorry." Gradually, the events already past flooded his mind.  
He groaned and closed his eyes, emotional pain welling inside him.  
Demelza closed her eyes in unison, as if reacting to his pain.  
  
"Demelza, close your mind, will you dearest?" Jenra chided in motherly  
tones. "You have helped him. He must find a measure of his own  
strength with which to fight."  
  
She smiled faintly and nodded.  
  
"Sometimes I forget."  
  
Jenra gazed at her steadily, a smirk painted on her face.  
  
"Okay, so I ne'er remember," she sighed, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Dem-chan?" asked a faint male voice. The light brown haired girl  
turned towards the source. She knelt beside his bed, and bid him lie  
down as she 'sshed' him softly.  
  
"Yes Mamoru?"  
  
His eyes trembled. Demelza knew that his heart did also; she had felt  
the striking of his emotions.  
  
"Will you help me?"  
  
Jenra looked curious. Demelza looked startled, and gravely uncertain.  
Knowing what he asked of her, it was almost entirely too much for her  
to bear. She knew his pain, and sympathized with the core of her  
heart. How could she refuse, having assisted him in finding a will to  
live? She turned away for a moment, her unsettled gaze cast at Jenra,  
who got to her feet as the implications became clear to her.  
  
"Demelza, you can't," she began, knowing it was a fight already lost.  
As a psychic herself, she knew that what Demelza felt could not be  
ignored; she knew the psionic nature of the persuasion.  
  
Demelza said nothing. Her face settled to a concentrated look, which  
she kept as she turned towards Mamoru again.  
  
"There's only s'much a young lass like m'self can do Mamoru," she  
said, her voice testimony to her decision. Her voice also betrayed the  
concern, and sympathy to Jenra, who did not appear shocked, or  
surprised, in the least. Mamoru smiled faintly, and closed his eyes,  
falling asleep moments later. With an emotionally heavy sigh, Demelza  
sat down beside her mentor, her eyes downcast.  
  
"She is very far from here. You realize that, don't you?" Jenra noted  
quietly.  
  
Demelza merely nodded.  
  
"He needs m'help," she admonished. "It's this stuff, Jenra, that makes  
me wish I was somethin' else entirely."  
  
"It is what you are, you cannot escape that," Jenra said, gazing at  
the young woman. "Besides; you are young yet. Understanding comes with  
experience."  
  
"An' I suppose experience comes with age?" Demelza finished.  
  
"My heavens no! Whatever makes you think that?" her elder replied  
rather sharply, yet calmly. Demelza looked startled. "I have known  
many who know very little about life, yet a great deal about age.  
Experience makes the difference of perception, of understanding."  
  
"It'd be a lie t' say I understood ye, mentor."  
  
A wafting silence punctuated Jenra's following comment.  
  
"You do like him, don't you?"  
  
"What?" She felt her face redden. "I..."  
  
"You would have to, to want to go through so much trouble for him." A  
knowing smile drifted across her face. "Oh don't blush so, Demelza.  
Why be embarrassed about being attracted to him? Were I ten years  
younger..." she gazed at the sleeping form of Mamoru.  
  
"Mentor!" Demelza gasped, aghast.  
  
"You suppose because I'm married I can't recognize masculine beauty  
when I see it? Though really dear one, you know me better than that,"  
she smirked. "He is very handsome, though. This girl," she paused, as  
if in thought, "Usagi... She must be a very happy girl."  
  
"She is," Demelza stated with a trace of despondency. "Or was... he  
worries so for 'er now."  
  
Jenra got to her feet, plainly careful of her back, and stood before  
Demelza. She put her hands to the young woman's forearms.  
  
"Trust in the good of this world, young one."  
  
When their eyes met, Jenra could plainly see that it was not the good  
that she trusted. She wrapped her arms about Demelza, who trembled in  
silence. The peacefully silent respite of the omnipresent millennium  
tree offered what comfort it could.  
  
---  
  
Time, Demelza was sure, was dawdling. Was it her dwelling on Mamoru  
that caused this? The young black haired Japanese man slept nigh  
constantly over the following several weeks. She knew it made sense,  
but she so wanted to talk to him, to come to know him better. Feeling  
the strength of the love he held for Usagi was toxic. She wished she  
could share it, or be his focus. It was selfish, but she had never  
known such love. Most of the young men she had relationships with  
regarded themselves as being "unworthy" somehow.  
  
She truly began to wonder if what she was feeling for him was true. It  
was plain to her that it was merely superficial, but the emotions had  
been so potent that she had a difficult time being anything but  
envious of their intensity.  
  
Demelza watched him heal much faster than any other human she had seen  
in a long while. The fact that he healed so quickly did not surprise  
her; psychics, and other mystics healed just as, if not faster than  
he. What surprised her was that she had not sensed any innate psionic  
ability within him. For what she had read of him while in his mind, he  
was without any superhuman abilities.  
  
Finally, his restlessness founded his interest in leaving. He did not  
seem too make any note, or even recognize that anything had transpired  
between them. It was as if she had never been in his mind. Demelza  
realized that it would be irrational to feel slighted, but could not  
help her response. She refused to talk to him at length, though his  
concern eventually caused her to falter her anger. Friendship seemed  
to be an obvious close second to his love, which she knew she could  
not win.  
  
Though the occasional irrational argument out of sheer frustration  
regarding this point could not be halted.  
  
As time passed, Jenra saw that he could not be held. She also saw that  
her student would fall into depression, and worse, if she delayed her  
any further. They decided to make a trek to New Camelot. It was not  
very far away, and it was the most likely source of rumors, and  
assistance.  
  
Demelza had heard little from those who visited the Millennium Tree,  
and those she tended. What she had heard, complied with the  
information Mamoru had given her. He had described a young man and  
woman, pale-skinned, and stressed on their foreign appearance. Some  
told her that there had been a number of murders, and a few deaths of  
various women which matched the description of Luna. Mamoru refused to  
face the possibility that Luna might be dead. Instead, he followed the  
more likely (favorable) prospect: A man and woman had been noted  
wandering about the Open Market. How were they distinguished? Few  
humans had such psionic power. They had been suspected to be a pair of  
European Mind Melters.  
  
The next question: How did they get from Europe to England? Few  
speculated. The fact of the matter was, Mamoru did not care. Even  
though the idea of their being psychics did not quite fit, it made  
relatively little difference in the light that they were human,  
instead of feline.  
  
He did, after all, clearly recall the difference in their appearances  
just after arriving here, before their separation.  
  
Jenra saw them off with a blessing, and a prayer. For as short as the  
trek was to be, the dangers along the way could see their deaths, or  
worse.  
  
---  
  
"By th' Generous Soul of th' Tree," Demelza said, sounding as stricken  
as she looked. She held her ankle as she sat there, her back to an  
ancient tree, watching in astonishment, and horror, as Mamoru  
challenged the Splugorth to battle.  
  
She could not understand why he was reacting so strongly. The  
Splugorth had not actually hurt her. Not directly, at least. Sure she  
had walked into a trap and broken her ankle. Escaping could have been  
as simple as changing to light. Of course, she had not been able to do  
that, unfortunately. Not in front of Mamoru. He, however, had jumped  
up - much to her surprise - the ten feet to cut her down, then hopped  
back down with her in his arms. The Splugorth had then decided to  
reveal himself. He struck Mamoru from behind, knocking him to the cool  
earth, and sending Demelza with him. It was at that point that the  
Japanese youth issued his guttural wailing of challenge.  
  
As Mamoru approached the creature, his robed form began to change.  
Demelza gasped, watching as his clothes stretched and tore against his  
abruptly earth toned skin. He appeared to become a statue, his  
normally attractive facial features dulled and blurred by the roughly  
unchiseled stone that either covered or became him. Even she was  
unsure of which. His voice deepened in a cry of rage. There was a  
flurry of motion and noise as nearby animals bolted, squawking and  
chirping, as if feeling the anger of this being.  
  
"An Earth Child - - - !?" She cursed her own inability, wincing  
sharply. The earthen creature formerly known as Mamoru ignored her,  
and took a slow, heavy swing at the Slaver with a fist. The Slaver  
blocked aptly with an arm, then struck Mamoru, sending him flying back  
into a tree, causing it to tear free from the earth.  
  
The Slaver turned to Demelza, who seemed stunned. He leveled a small  
energy pistol at her, and fired. A scream of pain echoed, spurring  
Mamoru to his feet.  
  
"Mamoru help me!!" Demelza cried frantically, pain distorting her  
sense of panic into the beginnings of hysteria. Her screams continued,  
for a moment, then ceased as the shock overwhelmed her. Mamoru's eyes  
fell upon the young woman who helped him. His eyes and heart betrayed  
him, at first. She did not look hurt, as there was no blood. The  
second glance told the truth. The absence of her lower right leg sent  
Mamoru into a rage which would not see an end until either the Slaver,  
or he, was dead.  
  
The Slaver merely laughed. Mamoru's thick fist traveled through the  
air again, evenly, to catch the snake-like creature by the jaw,  
sending it flying backward. The Slaver lay stunned for a time. Mamoru  
stomped up to the creature in a cold fury. His foot raised, then there  
was a sound like the cracking of dry wood.  
  
Just as quickly as the transformation had occurred, it reversed,  
leaving a very unbelieving half-clad Mamoru standing before the still  
reptilian form of the Slaver.  
  
A dark nagging took him; "Demelza!" He turned, and ran to her  
unconscious form.  
  
"So sorry, Dem-chan!' I never meant for anything to happen to you..."  
He uttered a dry curse. Without thought, he laid his hands on her, and  
closed his eyes. After a few moments of silence, her eyes began to  
flutter open.  
  
"Mamoru...?" she muttered, gazing upwards at him.  
  
"I'm here, Dem-chan."  
  
Realization slowly set in. Her eyes flew from the missing part of her  
leg, to the still body of the Slaver.  
  
"By the Tree. Mamoru... You killed the bugger," she half whispered in  
astonishment, and skepticism.  
  
"Yes," he nodded firmly. "I had no choice. How far are we from  
Camelot?"  
  
"A day an' night," she replied, not quite trusting the implications of  
the question. "Why ask?"  
  
He took her up in his arms. "That's all I need to know Demelza. Thank  
you."  
  
"Mamoru!" she started, surprised, and concerned. "If we're going...  
best we tarry not! But... are ye sure 'bout our safety, nonetheless?"  
  
He frowned, knowing what she said was true. Then his face set.  
  
"There's another way."  
  
All it took was a gesture of mind to let his senshi transformation  
consume him. In a matter of moments, his torn robe was replaced by the  
formal outfit of Tuxedo Kamen. With her in his arms, not waiting to  
elaborate for Demelza's startled gasp, he jumped up into a high limb  
of a tree.  
  
---  
  
The thick tangle of trees had given over to hills and plains fairly  
quickly. Demelza indicated that it was due to their proximity to New  
Camelot. As the silence grew between them, she felt it become  
increasingly uncomfortable, as if it was driving a wedge between them.  
Aside from the fact that he had saved her life, she did not want to  
make things any more awkward than they already were. The fact that he  
was an Earth child disturbed her as much as it surprised her. He had  
not asked any questions about it. Apparently he wanted to avoid the  
subject of the terrible transformation as much as she did. Jenra had  
taught her that such things could not be ignored. Such power would  
surely lead to trouble if disregarded.  
  
Further, there was the matter of his summoning formal clothing and  
cape, and the fact that he was able to leap significant distances with  
what seemed no more than a shrug's effort. Yet, somehow this really  
didn't worry her. From having been in his mind, there was the vague  
sense that he was a protector of women, including his lost love, and  
it was, if anything, comforting. So, on to question the most piquant  
concern...  
  
"I shoulda known! Have ye always been a Child of Earth, Mamoru?" The  
question, she realized, was pure foolishness. The fact of the matter  
was one was born that way: With the ability to draw from the power of  
the earth, or the sun as she could. It was no different for Star  
Children. The powers themselves manifested at a young age, and the  
clan was usually filled with many of the Earth or Star Child's' kind.  
  
"What? Earth Child?" He looked puzzled. "Demelza, what... oh."  
  
She groaned as a dull pain washed over her.  
  
"Y-yes. How long?"  
  
He gazed at her steadily, worry creasing his brow.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"I-i..." she gasped in a quick rush of air involuntarily. She began  
trembling in his arms, eyes closed, voice still.  
  
"Dem-chan!" Mamoru cried, his eyes narrowing. Touching her forehead  
revealed that she was burning up with fever. He doubled his pace,  
desperation spurring him on. Fortunately, Camelot was only an hours'  
distance away. Mamoru reached the gates of the sprawling city heaving  
air through the dry passage of his throat. He was stopped by a pair of  
guards adorned in knight-style armor.  
  
"Is there a problem?" one of them asked.  
  
"She's very ill!" Mamoru panted, almost dropping to one knee in his  
own weakness.  
  
"Thom!" the fellow hollered. A short fellow, wearing the clothes of a  
squire approached the knight.  
  
"Yes Sir!" the young man snapped obediently.  
  
"Escort this man to the nearest healer, lad, on the double!"  
  
"Yes Sir!" He turned to Mamoru, his twentyish features studying him  
for a moment. "Give 'er to me. You look almost to the point of  
collapse yourself, man."  
  
Mamoru relented the pallid and still trembling form of Demelza. The  
young man took her, and started off, hardly waiting for Mamoru to  
catch his wind.  
  
---  
  
They had not taken long. Apparently the squire knew the area well. He  
was able to conduct them to a place called 'Hysian's Healings' in a  
matter of minutes. The place smelled strongly of herbs and other  
plants. Mamoru felt lost again, his hope hanging on a thin silvery  
line.  
  
"Hysian!" Thom called, setting Demelza down on a table in the middle  
of the room. "Where 're ya! I've got an ill lass here!"  
  
He paced about, hands on hips, the expression on his face seeming  
quite expectant of this behavior. He threw Mamoru an exasperated  
glance, his arms akimbo.  
  
"I know!" a high-strung voice said. A woman of a very fitting form to  
the voice appeared from behind a congregation of tall vines.  
  
"Oh my! Demelza!" Her smile faded to a concentrated frown as she  
regarded the haggard looking young woman. "Come come, I won't bite.  
I'm not that strung out."  
  
Mamoru tried to suppress his surprise as he approached her.  
  
"Thank you Thom. You'd best get back to Terin. He'll be waiting," she  
said absently as she ran her hands gently over Demelza.  
  
"Yes Healer," he said with a half-bow at the waist, and left.  
  
Hysian sighed.  
  
"He'll not make much of a Knight if he continues to be so submissive.  
Oh well. Now," her green eyed gaze gripped Mamoru's stony expression.  
She resisted an urge to sigh. "Well, are you going to tell me what  
happened or just stand there and look stoned?"  
  
Mamoru blinked.  
  
'Gomen nasai.'  
  
"Japanese, eh? Hm... 'Well, young thing, how did it happen that  
Dem-chan lost a part of her leg?'" A certain smile followed her  
inquiry in his native language.  
  
'We were attacked by a strange creature on our way from the Millennium  
Tree that Dem-chan lives in.'  
  
'I see,' she replied. 'What did it look like?'  
  
'It was like a man-sized lizard, but it had armor on it. Instead of  
eyes, it had a band of metal. It had no legs, just a long tail.'  
  
'Splugorth, then. How unpleasant for you.' Then she quirked an  
eyebrow. 'How did you come to defeat the thing? And what is your  
name?'  
  
Mamoru's gaze dropped.  
  
'That is not something I wish to discuss. It's, uh, Mamoru.'  
  
'If you wish, Mamoru,' she smiled faintly, consideration abound. 'Then  
tell me how she was wounded.'  
  
Mamoru suppressed a shudder of rage.  
  
'She was first caught by a trap. A rope caught her leg and pulled her  
up into a tree. I think it broke her leg.'  
  
'Not that it matters now,' Hysian muttered. She glanced up at him. 'Go  
on.'  
  
'I killed it. That's, uh, all.'  
  
Hysian's eyes wandered to the vine swathed ceiling of the small  
herbalist shop as she 'hummed' thoughtfully.  
  
'There is more you aren't telling me, my boy, but we shall discuss it  
later. At any rate, she's quite ill. A contact poison on the rope  
would explain this. She will be alright though. I've dealt with  
worse.' She put a hand on her forehead. Demelza's eyes wandered slowly  
open.  
  
"Eat this," Hysian commanded softly, presenting a small leaf to her  
lips. As if in a trance, Demelza obeyed, not seeming to react to her  
surroundings. Mamoru started to ask a question, but Hysian raised a  
finger to her lips, indicating he should remain silent.  
  
"Now rest," she said, removing her hand, and letting the young woman's  
eyes drift closed. 'Mamo-chan, she was as much in a trance as you  
thought. She will be recovering from this for many days. I merely gave  
her that to settle the fever. I still must prepare a tea to cull the  
poison.' She glanced at him. 'There is another matter here, however.  
She will need a prosthetic. I must leave to discuss that with a  
friend. You will watch her while I am gone, hai?'  
  
'Of course. I don't know, senpai, about the prosthetic.'  
  
'You don't have to. The decision is not yours.' She turned, and headed  
towards the entrance of the shop. 'There is a chair next to you. Use  
it. If she begins shaking again, I will be in the shop right across  
from this one. Come and get me without hesitation.'  
  
'Hai, Hysian-san.'  
  
---  
  
Randy's face lit up.  
  
"Mamoru, as in Mamoru Chiba?"  
  
Hysian nodded her brown haired head.  
  
"He's over there, watching over the girl who saved his life."  
  
"As long as he's alive, that's all that matters. I'm going to have a  
talk with him."  
  
"What about Demelza?"  
  
Randy paused, then shrugged. "It would be best to leave the operation  
until she's recovered."  
  
Hysian nodded; that made sense.  
  
"How long?"  
  
"A week."  
  
Randy nodded, "Fine, fine. Why don't you ask him to come over here."  
  
She sighed, and nodded, leaving the shoppe.  
  
---  
  
Mamoru was still somewhat stunned by the request.  
  
"I could use your combat talents," Randy stated firmly.  
  
"How do you know who I am?"  
  
"We know a great deal about who's responsible for bringing you here.  
We also know about your Bishojo Sailor Senshi. Right now we're doing  
our best to rescue them."  
  
Mamoru's heart leapt in his chest.  
  
"Usako!" he blurted. "Where is she!"  
  
Randy shook his head.  
  
"We don't know. She's still missing. The last we heard, it was  
possible she's somewhere in North America. Pretty vague, I know, but  
it's better than nothing."  
  
Mamoru looked nonplused.  
  
"There's still a lot you haven't told me."  
  
"So you accept?"  
  
Mamoru nodded firmly.  
  
"Good. Then perhaps now would be a good time to bring Luna and Artemis  
into this..." Randy added with a pleasant smile.  
  
Mamoru's expression of surprise was superseded only by the gladness in  
his heart. 


	17. Third Hand

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 16: Third Hand  
  
:Oh hell!; he thought, scrambling away as the shimmering sliver of  
light slammed through the hood and into the engine of his beaten '87  
Civic.  
  
:Oh damn; was hers, diving down and scooping the gangly fellow in her  
arms by his shoulders, and drawing him into the night darkened air.  
  
'Holy...'  
  
Shortly thereafter there was a hiss and a sudden burst of heat and  
light from the frame of the vehicle which lifted with the force of the  
blast. A concussion wave hurled the pair to the ground like  
wind-tossed butterflies. The young man groaned, and rolled over, eyes  
wide.  
  
'My car!'  
  
'You're welcome,' she sighed with a huff, pulling herself up on the  
indented side rail as she flexed her great grey wings tiredly. He  
gazed at her, the very fact of her existence still banging its head  
against the door of his consciousness. Part of his stunned look  
stemmed from the destruction of his well favored car.  
  
'Geez, uh, yeah,' replied he. 'Thanks.'  
  
'Okay!' she bellowed, favoring her right leg slightly as she stepped  
forward. 'Come and... huh?'  
  
Her bright green eyes darted about the devoid scene, the wreckage  
burning rather happily against the sidewalk edged tree endowed park.  
Opposite this was an undeveloped sand dune of weed smattered land.  
  
He swore. 'It's gone.'  
  
'No, look,' she pointed, finger aimed at the lively flaming husk of  
metal. Upon it was strewn the blackening, broken corpse of the  
excessively limbed aggressor.  
  
'Gross,' he grimaced. She shrugged nonchalantly.  
  
'I'm not complaining. That,' she cursed with harsh intensity, 'thing  
has been trying to... uh, bugger me for weeks. Thanks. You good?'  
  
'Oh, great, not counting my fried junker.'  
  
'I'm sorry,' she started plaintively. 'Uhm...'  
  
'Naw, it was goin' on me anyway,' he offered, gazing at her steadily.  
'Just an excuse to pick up another one.'  
  
As her eyes rose, settling upon him, his flicked away.  
  
'Oh.'  
  
'Hey - it is "Sailor Ether" - right?'  
  
She nodded, biting her faintly painted, thin lip.  
  
'You okay? The way it grabbed...'  
  
'No,' she interrupted him, turning away, arms folded protectively  
about her torso. 'I'm fine.'  
  
Silence, during which she gave him a sidelong glance with visible  
recently buried pain.  
  
'You, uh, have a nice life, okay?'  
  
'Yeah, sure,' he muttered, watching her lithe figure disappear into  
the distance. :She's got problems:  
  
His dark high top shoes carried him along at a glum, sullen pace  
until, Phatefully enough, company of the familiar sort purred to a  
halt aside him.  
  
'Hey Roger! Need a lift?'  
  
He peered into the yellow Austin Mini, then nodded.  
  
'Hey Mr. Goodwill,' Roger grinned, tugging the thin door open, and  
clapping it shut behind him as he hunched into the passenger side of  
the little car.  
  
'I see you're missing the Civic? Going for a late walk?'  
  
'Yeah, right, at two o'clock in the morning? Fat chance wise guy,' he  
replied with a visitation of ire. 'How about we go get a drink? I'm  
going to tell you something that's going to blow your mind.'  
  
'You saw a girl flitting by in the night sky.'  
  
'More than that. Come on already! Let's go!' he snapped impatiently.  
  
'What crawled up your ass and died?' he retorted, the engine buzzing  
loudly, accelerating with several jerking shifts of gear. The dark  
haired young man stared out of the window angrily, saying nothing.  
Within minutes they were scooting along an apartment littered urban  
back road.  
  
'Bobby Sox?'  
  
'If it's quiet,' Roger muttered tersely.  
  
'What? You're muttering.'  
  
The dark clothed young man cursed.  
  
'Fine, let's go,' he snarled faintly.  
  
'What happened?' the short haired young man scrutinized him for a  
moment, before casting his eyes to the road as they rounded a corner.  
  
'I saw Sailor Ether,' he admitted, his face relaxing slightly, tension  
yet abundant in his being. 'She frickin' saved my life, Troy.'  
  
He pulled the British mini-miracle into a space for which it was much  
too small, and turned it off, hands tapping the steering wheel as he  
considered this. It was too outlandish, even for Roger, to be a lie.  
Not that he was inclined to such falsities. Roger had been carefully  
keeping him informed regarding the situation of the Bishojo Sailor  
Senshi. Their previous disappearance, and the replacement who, first  
thought to be Sailor V, had proclaimed herself to be "Sailor Ether",  
the defender of Tokyo. Further, she had proven herself by protecting  
civilians from the ascending rate of demon attacks since the vacancy  
of the Sailor Senshi.  
  
The door popped open with a metallic click, and before closing it  
again, he gestured for Roger to lock his as well. They hopped over  
several protrusions of displaced curb, and blatantly ignored the sign  
of the small 60's Diner. Troy stilted into the building as Roger held  
open the thick, glass panel door, and sauntered on in after him.  
Taking their usual cherry red corner seat and casting glances at the  
classic prints of unshakable cool of James Dean, then Elvis the man of  
dangerous gyrations, and Marilyn Monroe in all of her sundry beauty,  
they tensely grasped their brightly colored menus.  
  
'Hungry?' Roger asked softly.  
  
'Yes, I just got off work.'  
  
'Oh,' he half-murmured as he folded and set down his menu. As Troy  
laid his atop the first, a girl who might have otherwise shined for  
the years of tarnish upon her attractiveness approached with pad in  
hand and pretty smile upon face.  
  
'So do you know what you want?' she chimed, pen in hand jotting at the  
pre-fabricated order form.  
  
'Sure,' Roger responded congenially with a smile. 'Fries and a  
Sprite.'  
  
'You know drinks are only bottomless with a dinner, okay?'  
  
He nodded, after which she faced Troy, who's fingers rapped the grey  
speckled table top distractedly.  
  
'Yoo-hoo,' she prodded, bringing his wandering eyes to her face.  
  
'Sorry. I'll have a chicken burger.'  
  
'Salad or fries? Something to drink maybe?' she queried, eyes  
orienting upon him with a furrow of doubt.  
  
'Salad, and a Sprite, too,' he added morosely.  
  
'Ranch, Italian, or Thousand Island?'  
  
'Ranch.'  
  
'I'll be back in a minute with your drinks,' she indicated as she  
turned away.  
  
'Oh good, I like drinks. Handy things when your thirsty, I've found,'  
Roger commented with a smirk.  
  
'Yeah,' she agreed with a giggle, disappearing around the corner into  
the kitchen.  
  
'So when did this happen?' Troy requested after a time.  
  
'Maybe ten minutes before you picked me up.'  
  
Silence.  
  
'Okay, I'll tell you from the beginning.'  
  
An affirmative nod, if not somewhat ire driven.  
  
'You remember I told you about how this winged girl has been fighting  
off demons locally.'  
  
'Not local bums? I've had a couple really get in my face lately.'  
  
'Isn't that the way you like it?' he grinned with the vocal jab.  
  
'Just because you don't get any action doesn't mean you have to get  
jealous,' he replied snappingly, his face echoing facial adornment and  
voice in tone. Roger laughed.  
  
'Anyway, like I said, I saw her tonight. She was fighting off this  
clown, you know, like the ones on stilts in the circus?'  
  
He nodded briefly.  
  
'It was just a bit down 210th from the school. She was doing pretty  
well too...'  
  
'You stopped and watched?' Troy blurted, unbelieving.  
  
'Yes. I drove up against the curb near the old school, and just kinda  
sat there for a while...' his voice tapered off as a red plastic  
basket of wedge-style fries appeared before him. Two clear plastic  
cups followed, guided by a long fingered hand. A straw in each cup  
hung dangerously over the edge, suspended by the brisk carbonation of  
the drink within.  
  
'Thanks,' Roger smiled simply. Hers was accompanied by a spoken  
indication that Troy's dinner would arrive shortly. Her black jeaned,  
white bloused figure signaled the continuation of explanation as she  
departed. Roger grabbed a fry and bit down, finding it to be  
reasonably crunchy, yet soft under the skin.  
  
'Drove up? Where's your car then?' Troy asked, eyebrows knitting as he  
squeezed some ketchup onto a portion of the fries, after which point  
he grasped one between a pair of fingers.  
  
'I'll get to that. Anyway, I don't know how, but it canceled one of  
her attacks. Nothing else after that seemed to work.' His eyes  
narrowed in consideration as he forgot his food for a moment. 'It  
grabbed in her a hold... uh, I mean... took...'  
  
'I know what you mean.'  
  
'Yeah. Anyway, it held her... in a very sexual way, like...' as it had  
before, the stark unpleasantness reformed in his gut, and he  
swallowed. His eyes fell upon his late snack, and he grabbed another.  
  
Troy said nothing, just gazed at him.  
  
'Like it was going to rape her or something...' he shut his eyes,  
pulling his oval, thin rimmed glasses from his face and rubbing his  
eyes. 'Or something? It almost was... until I came around the corner  
and floored it. I guess it's just that Knight in Shining Armor complex  
I've always had.'  
  
Wide eyed, he set those brown and white orbs upon his friend of many  
years. Roger found himself chuckling faintly.  
  
'I never made it though. It saw me and dropped her. It all happened so  
fast...' the young man paused as the waitress neared them, and set  
down Troy's pleasant smelling dinner. The recipient swallowed and  
attacked it.  
  
'Go on.'  
  
The short haired young man sighed.  
  
'Well, I jumped out, for starters, and the Civic just sailed towards  
it. You know how the pedal catches, right?'  
  
Troy nodded sympathetically.  
  
'Well you know, it's not hard to fix... you just kick it to the  
left... but I didn't. The stupid thing saved our asses. So, uh, I  
jumped out, and it kept going. By the time I rolled to a stop, I saw  
it, and then she picked me up, and tried to get us both out of range  
before it blew.'  
  
'Looks like you survived,' commented a throaty, dry female voice.  
Their eyes reached up and locked upon the amazing figure of the young  
woman smiling at them, her dark purple hair styled in a somewhat  
familiar paired pigtail manner which twigged a hint in Roger's  
attentive mind. One which he failed to notice on a conscious level due  
to her very presense.  
  
'Yeah,' he nearly stammered. 'Uh, do I know you? Or do you...?'  
  
She shook her head mildly with a smile.  
  
'No, I just overheard you talking about Sailor Ether,' she replied,  
flicking her hand through her hair affectatiously. 'Was she okay?'  
  
Mutely, and dumbly, they both nodded.  
  
'Good,' she sighed. 'It's getting too scary to walk alone at night. I  
don't know what Tokyo would do without her.'  
  
'I didn't get your name...?'  
  
'Hai,' she bowed her head slightly. 'Jisura. And yours?'  
  
'He's Troy, and I'm Roger,' he smiled, bowing his head deeply. 'Nice  
to meet you. Really.'  
  
'I'm sure it is. Good night Roger and Troy,' she smirked, bowing  
slightly at the waist as she turned away and exited the diner.  
  
Roger faced his companion of many years for a moment with a look of  
pure distaste upon his face.  
  
'"I'm sure it is?" Gorgeous girl, but her nose is so high she must be  
breathing ozone,' he remarked, his eyes and head turning to watch her  
cross the empty street unaccompanied.  
  
'Her eyes weren't brown, were they?' Troy asked.  
  
'No. But I swear they should be, 'cause I think you're right,' Roger  
agreed. 'Bloody full of it.'  
  
As their conversation dwelt upon the strangeness of her interaction,  
and then trailed on to other matters, the well formed young woman  
strode confidently along a solitary highway, ignoring the occasional  
hoot and holler over the boldness of her mode of dress, and the body  
it concealed.  
  
She stepped swiftly, her wide hips swaying minimally towards and  
through several obstacles, only one of which attempted to pose any  
threat.  
  
'Hey sexy,' muttered a staggering thickly built male, eying her  
'assets' with alcohol inspired confidence. His similarly statured pal  
swung his arm in an arc, hand open as such as to receive a grasp of  
female flesh. Contact was never made, as the arm was snapped back with  
ten times the force it had been propelled forward.  
  
The scream of the muscular man echoed in the empty parking lot aside  
them as he crouched forward in searing agony, his arm twisted and  
hanging loosely at his side, snapped in several places. The curse of  
the first followed, his eyes locked on the woman who had fallen in a  
martial stance of obvious self defense, a cruel snarl upon her lovely  
visage.  
  
The first turned and ran for his life, tripping and stumbling as he  
did, while the other followed, staggering and wheezing as he ran.  
Muttering angrily to herself as she continued at a comfortable pace,  
she eventually came to the edge of a collection of high rise  
buildings. Without a glance at her black short skirted hips, she  
clenched her right hand, from which a black sphere of light snapped.  
The grip of her hand loosened, suggesting that she was clenching  
something in her purple nailed hand.  
  
As her grip loosened further, allowing the crystal freedom from its  
hold, the hand assumed a paleness, then a formative transparency,  
which increased to the point that by the time the crystal penetrated  
the grassy earth, her form no longer occupied its given space. 


	18. Survival of the... Ahem... Fittest

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 17: Survival of the... Ahem... Fittest  
  
It reminded her of her homeland, in a dark, beggar ridden, alley  
corner turned home kind of way. Wandering brought her nowhere, as she  
had no idea as to her location in the first place. What it did offer,  
was fear, the awareness that she was being watched, and followed.  
Their often tattered red jackets made them stand out, even in the  
corners of her vision. She counted roughly six of them now. She wanted  
to bolt, but she knew that would only draw Phate nearer, sooner.  
  
Beyond that, there was no telling what else was out there.  
  
Losing her arm was turning out to be the least of it in the light of  
being stalked so. Reality seemed so much more harsh that even losing  
Mamoru. Perhaps she would be better off not having anything at all.  
All that much less to lose, right?  
  
"Hey, d'ya know yer cruisin' through d' Blud's turf chickie?" came a  
voice, and the grip of a rough hand on her upper right arm. The hand  
wrenched her around. Suddenly she found herself staring into a pair of  
large dark eyes, tasting the bad breath that came forth from the  
unwashed and unshaven face before her.  
  
"Let me go!" she snapped, tearing easily loose from his strong grip.  
He growled at the insubordination, and swung an open palm at her. She  
ducked easily, and struck him in the crotch. He doubled over, making a  
strange gurgling noise.  
  
'So sorry,' she said with a dark sneer, offering a mock apology. A  
fist collided with her head from behind, knocking her forward into a  
pile of trash.  
  
"Gugh," she spat, wincing.  
  
"C'mon bitch," said a voice, accompanied by a hand which grabbed her  
shoulders, and pulled her up. "If ya wanna hang inna turf o' the  
Bluds, then ya gotta pay da price." His free hand tore at her already  
slightly torn sailor uniform, revealing the naked skin beneath.  
  
"No!" Usagi cried, striking him with her right arm. He fell backwards  
as if struck by a sledge hammer, his nose smashed against his face  
like a burst liquid-filled balloon, blood pouring down eagerly from  
it.  
  
"Help!" she screamed.  
  
"Now, now, is that any way to converse with your hosts?" inquired a  
calm voice, carrying a note of eloquence and civility that the first  
two had lacked.  
  
Usagi's voice halted, uncertainty holding her. Just as that did, he  
came to grasp her as well. As she became aware of this, she struggled.  
Abruptly, she felt a cold pinprick at her neck, and then a weakness  
pass through her body. She fell limply against him with a cry. With a  
simple motion of his hand, the remainder of her suit disappeared.  
  
"No, please, let me go!" she cried, terrified by her inability to  
move. Before soon, she found herself bound, her struggles reduced to  
only those vocal.  
  
As he penetrated her, she felt not only him, but that she would lose  
her mind. Through all she had survived; being captured by the  
Splugorth, then the terrible violence of the escape, the loss of  
Sivil... It hardly seemed to matter that they had escaped from  
Atlantis, for they were separated again nearly as soon as they had  
come together. He was using her to sate his own dark pleasures, the  
fact that she protested and found it unpleasant was a trifling matter  
in his concern. Her screams did not fail, nor change in response to  
his attack of her. They bespoke her fear, her pain, and only changed  
when he stopped. His pause was hardly a reprieve; for he caressed her  
roughly while tears marred her cheeks.  
  
"You, you... bastard," she muttered faintly between sobs. "L-l-let me  
go... G-guh-go a-auh-away!"  
  
"But I so enjoy your company," he laughed.  
  
"N-no, please! Help! Help me!!" Her voice raised again into desperate  
screams. After a moment, he sneered, and stood, watching the trembling  
young girl, dark pleasure lighting his face.  
  
"Pl-pluh-please!" she stammered, her pleading gaze reluctantly  
querying his intense regard, which displayed clearly the intention not  
so deeply concealed. She screamed again.  
  
"Get away! Stop it!" she cried, eyes clasped tightly shut, fist  
clenched so that the knuckles were white. Apparently the effects of  
the stunning were short lived. She sobbed, feeling that her throat  
might tear, and that she wanted to die. Anything was preferable to  
this.  
  
:Someone help me!:  
  
A laser blast caught Usagi's rapist, incinerating his skull in a  
yellow flash of light. The body dropped forward, landing on Usagi,  
eliciting a drawn out scream from her.  
  
"Will ya damn freakin' rats get away from th' lady!" demanded a small,  
yet not ineffectual, voice. The dozen other Bluds fled, with the death  
of their leader, and the presence of higher technology. The few had  
maybe two handguns on them, and were no match against the energy  
weapon the man wielded.  
  
A pair of small rough hands pushed the heavy corpse off of Usagi.  
Those same hands offered her a heavy overcoat. Tears streaming down  
her cheeks, she accepted the offering.  
  
"Domo... um, uh... thuh-thank you."  
  
The small man brown haired man shrugged.  
  
"N'prob. Sorry I weren't here sooner. I think maybe th' 'Doc messed up  
my ears a bit when he put 'em in."  
  
She drew her knees up to her reddened breasts, leaned her face into  
her knees and cried wholeheartedly.  
  
"Uh, I'm Garen. I guess yer a citizen, eh?"  
  
She did not respond. Garen looked down at the dirt caked brick floor  
behind heavy sunglasses.  
  
"Well damn lady, we can't stay 'ere."  
  
She glanced up at him for a moment, face flush and bruised. Garen  
whistled.  
  
"Man, did he ever do a number on ya."  
  
Usagi sniffed, getting to her feet slowly, gripping the coat tightly.  
  
"Sorry sweetie, I din' mean that," he offered. "Let's go."  
  
"Where? Why?" she asked, looking and sounding stunned.  
  
Garen stopped, surprised by her question.  
  
"I dunno. It's yer call. I jus' wus thinkin' maybe you din' wanna get  
raped again."  
  
She stared at him blankly.  
  
He swore. "Wassup wit ya? Talk!"  
  
Suddenly unreasoningly fearful, she cried, backing away; "Just leave  
me alone!" She then turned and bolted.  
  
"Damnit. Stupid girl," Garen cursed. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." He then  
followed her.  
  
---  
  
Usagi was not thinking. Why run from the man who had saved her? That  
had not even occurred to her. Fear, however, had. Her leggy, overcoat  
clad form sped quickly through the downsider section of Coalition  
society. Her hair spilled out behind her, mussed and tangled, odango  
atama undone, causing the golden blond lengths to flow as a single  
mass.  
  
Garen dashed some distance behind her, her fear driven destination  
caused him to almost stop in place. They were cause enough for him to  
almost forget her entirely. The new style was strange; Garen couldn't  
help admiring the sleek look of the white skull motifs and bone-like  
lines which followed the curves of the midnight toned armor. That, and  
interest, kept him watching.  
  
"Whoa, whoa girl," said a black armored figure as she ran blindly into  
him. "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
She stumbled backwards, eyes opening, glancing at her obstruction.  
Somehow the skull motif of the old style armor did not scare her.  
Perhaps it was the long lived fear of further abuse still holding her  
that kept her calm.  
  
"Um, I d-don't know..." she half muttered, tears still tracing lines  
down her face.  
  
"Okay psychic. Calm down. What's your name?"  
  
"Tsukino Usagi," she started. Then; "huh? I'm not..."  
  
"Wait," the first reached forward, grabbing her with a black  
gauntleted hand. The other hand pushed aside the short mess of bangs  
which hung over her forehead. The spiked helmeted man scrutinized her  
for a moment.  
  
"She's not marked."  
  
She broke free easily.  
  
"What? Marked?" She started to back away.  
  
The first grunt turned to the second.  
  
"No, she's not on the list," she heard the second mutter. "She's not  
registered, either."  
  
"Registered? What...?" Fear forced her to turn, and start into a run.  
  
"Gres, grab her!" A humanoid figure appeared, grabbed her shoulders,  
and held her.  
  
"No! Leave me alone!!" she yelped.  
  
"Damn, damn, damn," Garen whispered as he ducked low behind the mess  
of garbage and makeshift box homes. He had managed to get close enough  
to act if the need arose. Apparently, this girl had a knack for  
trouble.  
  
:Of all my bad luck; he sighed. At best, he was outnumbered. :Two to  
one. Not counting the Dog Boys, which makes it six to one. Ah well:  
  
His first shot caught the Dog Boy holding Usagi in the head, killing  
it instantly. His second shot nicked the grunt at the shoulder,  
bringing his attention to Garen. The Psi-Net grunt issued orders for  
his Dog Boys to attack, just before Garen's third shot hit his helmet,  
leaving a faint scorch mark.  
  
"Ah crap, th' damn things I do..." Garen lamented as he indicated for  
Usagi to run. She did so with a pair of mutant dogs on her heels.  
Garen fired a few shots as he ducked into a manhole, not bothering to  
close it behind him. Running furiously, he hoped he had judged Usagi's  
running speed properly, along with her direction. If he timed it  
correctly, he would pop up right in front of them. If not, he would  
have some more running to do.  
  
As it turned out, what he failed to take into account was his own  
speed. He turned up ten feet behind them. Fortunately, his energy  
pistol had a more considerable range than merely ten feet. He fired  
off a few shots, killing the first, and getting the attention of the  
second, which turned, ran, and leapt at him. The Dog Boy caught him,  
knocking him over and sending his pistol flying from his hand.  
  
"Just," he swore, "great!"  
  
Usagi turned around, hearing the voice of the man who had saved her.  
At first she thought to ask why he had followed her, but then it  
occurred to her that she would not get any answers out of him dead.  
  
"Moon Crystal Power - Make Up!" came her voice. It had not actually  
occurred to her that she might not be able to turn into Sailor Moon  
without the ginzuishou, but as colored energy flared about her, the  
silver crystal appeared. Both Dog Boy and garish rouge stopped  
wrestling as the flashy transformation took her, replacing the  
overcoat with her Sailor uniform, and putting a golden tiara in her  
self-enmeshed hair.  
  
"Moon Tiara Action!" she called, taking the tiara awkwardly in her  
left hand instead of the missing right, at which point it turned into  
a nimbus of yellow energy. A formerly well practiced motion of hand,  
loosely translated for the opposing one, sent the sliver of energy  
toward the Dog Boy, who yelped as it struck him, knocking him from her  
waylaid savior. Garen scrambled up to the literally transformed young  
girl, cast an appreciative gaze over her, smiled, then gestured for  
them to run.  
  
"How'd ya do that?" he asked as they ran for their lives. "Ya really  
gotta be some trippy kinda psyche or somethin'!"  
  
"I'm Sailor Moon," she said, as if that explained everything. Had she  
been back in Tokyo, it would have. As it was, it merely compiled  
Garen's confusion. Consideration washed visibly over his face.  
  
"Uh, you're some kind of warrior... I guess, right? Or, I dunno... a  
Mage?" he shrugged.  
  
'What? Um, no. Garen-san does not understand? Ah... er... damn...'  
  
"Wassat you keep sayin'? Nani... uh... waka-wuka-sasu... uh... What is  
that? Some kinda differen' language er somethin'?"  
  
"Oh," she half-frowned. "I'm Japanese."  
  
"'S okay. I really don' care. I just like to know what my friends 'er  
sayin'."  
  
"Friend?" her depression-shaded face lightened somewhat. "Um, thank  
you. Hey... I don't even know your name!"  
  
"It's Garen Hel'." He threw a long glance behind him. "An' yer Tsukino  
Usagi, right? Uh, Usagi Tsukino, that'd be here, I mean."  
  
"Uhn... um, I guess," she started, then paused. "Um, hai."  
  
"Hai is 'yes', right?"  
  
"Sure," she replied seriously.  
  
"I think we can stop runnin' now. They ain't followin' us no more."  
  
They slowed, and stopped.  
  
"So do ya live here? I mean, well... naw, ya don't do ya? Ya must live  
in Chi-Town."  
  
She looked puzzled. Garen shook his head as he realized something.  
  
"Yeah, that's right ain't it! They said ya weren't on th' damned list.  
Hm... Is ya that D-Bee I been hearin' 'bout? Uh, I guess I shoulda  
asked how long ya bin' here, first, but go figure I don' think of it!"  
  
"Uh, I don't know. There are no monsters where I'm from... well, not  
like that..." her voice trailed off, and she shuddered. "I haven't  
been here long. I just wandered into town a couple days go."  
  
"Y'mean th' Coals, I bet. Uh, I mean th' Coalition, right?"  
  
"Those guys in the black armor?"  
  
Garen nodded.  
  
"Yeah, dem freaks what figger dey can keep us low lifers down. 'Cept  
they doin' a fine job, eh?"  
  
The solemnness drew her face into a shadow again.  
  
"So, why is y' here, anyway? I mean, the 'burbs is a pretty crappy  
place for a chick so nice lookin' as you."  
  
"Thanks," she blushed, half-smiling. "Why did you save me, anyway?  
No-one else cares like that." She clasped arm around her stomach  
defensively as her eyes drifted skyward.  
  
"Well, we ain't all creeps here. I can't stand t' see a pretty lady  
like you get hurt like that. It's jus' plain wrong."  
  
"I'm just a kid."  
  
He peered at her.  
  
"Ya don' seem like it, and ya sure as hell ain' lookin' like any kid I  
ever knowed."  
  
Forgiving his continuously lousy grammar, she asked:  
  
"So what do I do now? You're the only one I know now... I just...  
um..." she felt herself nearing tears again, genuine ones, in the  
light of her helplessness, and sense of loss.  
  
They had passed into a small run down open market of sorts. Many  
people wandered around purchasing things, like drugs, and other  
services offered by the less than respectable Black Market. Garen  
glanced around. His eyes passed over a tall fellow armored in dull  
grey steel with black hair, strange looking face, and a sword on his  
belt. His eyes moved on. They settled on a man in a worker's suit. He  
stepped up gingerly behind the fellow, and seemingly without effort,  
relieved him of a straining gold purse.  
  
The man continued chatting with his buddy idly.  
  
As Garen approached Usagi, he noted the shocked look on her face. He  
merely stated; "We make us a livin'."  
  
---  
  
As the months weaved forth, Usagi learned that she made a lousy thief,  
and an even worse housewife. Not that Garen really cared much about  
how his place looked, or that it was all that more pleasant when  
clean.  
  
Ultimately, felt she had to offer something in return for the  
sanctuary he gave her. Especially after he had gone through all the  
trouble of paying for a prosthetic arm to replace the left one she had  
lost. She regarded him as a kind-hearted man, in a longwinded,  
overbearing kind of way. She tried to repay what he had given her, and  
in doing so, almost got them caught by the Black Market. Usagi quickly  
learned that on their own turf, the Black Market was just as much a  
force to fear as the Coalition. Garen dismissed the error, saying that  
no one else had tried to give him anything, and that he appreciated  
it. Even more so, he added, if she stopped.  
  
As all attempts failed, she began to fall into depression, not eating,  
and sleeping all hours of the day while Garen appeared at odd times,  
in his usual efforts in daily life.  
  
One morning she just did not get up. Fortunately, this occurred on a  
day just after Garen had completed a job worth several thousand  
credits. Garen was busy enjoying a portion of his spent cash, and the  
accordant time earned. He noticed that she was not up, and went to  
wake her. He fully expected her not to be lying in her bed, and to his  
surprise, found that she was. He shook her shoulders gently. The  
golden blond opened her eyes weakly.  
  
"Heya cutie... when didja last eat?"  
  
She glanced at him, face pale and thin, eyes uncaring and cold.  
  
"Uh," he grunted, "not in a while, I figger. Right?"  
  
She said nothing, her gaze turning away from him.  
  
"So ya never answered my question, ya know that? I mean, I figgered y'  
was da D-Bee 'cause ya fit the rumors," he paused, the expression of  
his face soft. "I know ya is, but I was at least hopin' y'd be willin'  
to talk t'me 'bout it."  
  
"Why would you care?" she asked, face and voice straining as she  
spoke.  
  
He offered her a drink.  
  
"Eh? An' why not? I mean, I only saved yer cute littl' butt, din't I?"  
A gentle smirk crossed over his hard little face.  
  
She nodded reluctantly, trying to sit up. Garen placed a hand on her  
shoulder and assisted her. He handed her the drink, which she  
accepted, and sipped at.  
  
"Well... spill."  
  
She coughed, and cleared her throat.  
  
"Um... what do you know, anyway?"  
  
"Uh," he scratched the back of his head, "a bit."  
  
"Like..."  
  
"Well, a buddy o' mine. We calls 'im Randy. He's been lookin' for a  
chick like you. Now," he made a gesture for her to remain silent, "I  
didn't say nuttin' 'cause I wasn't sure if yer it. If yer the chick.  
He said blond hair, but not done up, like yers is."  
  
"My odango atama? Um," she squinted, eyes cast to the ceiling of the  
small bedroom. "'Dumpling Head', I guess, in English... er, well..."  
  
Garen laughed loudly.  
  
"Dumpling Head! That's funny!" He slapped his knee and continued  
laughing. Usagi started to look somewhat disgruntled.  
  
"Hey..."  
  
Garen tried to pull himself together.  
  
"I's sorry, but that wus too funny, Bunny," he smirked.  
  
She smiled at the usage of the nickname. It made her feel a little  
easier about her losses, having some kind of friendship, if even in  
the smallest degree.  
  
"Ha!" he barked triumphantly. "Ya smiled! See? Ya can't stay in a bad  
moody Bunny... it jus' don' work wit ya look."  
  
"Moody," she laughed. "Thanks Garen."  
  
"N'prob," he nodded. "So... 'bout yo friends. Randy wants ta meet ya.  
If ya thinks that's fine, eh? He says he knows somethin' 'bout yo  
other friend, right?" He shrugged. "'Cept it's up t' you."  
  
"Do you trust him? Do you think he'd lie to me?"  
  
Garen's face hardened seriously.  
  
"He ain' never lied t' me. He ain' got no dirt on him, and cutie, I  
know a lotta frickin' dirt. The Black Market hates 'im. He's a good  
guy. I'd trust him wit' m' life."  
  
"I get the point, Gi.'  
  
He mock frowned.  
  
"Gi? D'ya gotta call me 'Gi'?"  
  
Usagi giggled.  
  
"Hai! It's fun. Gi, gi, gi, gi!" she chanted.  
  
Garen stuck out his tongue at her. She returned the favor.  
  
"So, is ya hungry? I got a whole plate o' sugary junk 'n stuff sittin'  
out there..." He got to his feet. "I mean, I could always try t'  
finish it by m'self..."  
  
"You wouldn't!" Usagi said, sounding shocked. She jumped out of the  
bed with such energy that Garen stumbled backwards in surprise.  
  
"Well, that'll be fer afta ya have some greens. Ya look like th' dead,  
Bunny."  
  
She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest.  
  
"Listen... you gotta get better. Right? I'm just doin' cause I care.  
Y'know?"  
  
"It's just... you sound like my Mom."  
  
"I never much figgered m'self for par'nthood, but sho'. I like ya." He  
grinned, "Besides, it'll be a coupl'a days befo' I can arrange a  
meetin' wit' Randy... so that gives ya time ta get better. Right?  
C'mon."  
  
She sighed.  
  
"Hai, I guess." She grinned, then - with a wink - said; 'Baka.'  
  
"No more'n you... Bakayaro!" he replied, mangling the Japanese accents  
badly.  
  
'So desu ka? Tsuyaku ga imasu ka?' she laughed, continuing the joke  
with: 'Baka no sugoi. Gi, baka-goofball Gi!' she chanted, running down  
the short hall.  
  
"I really need t' get me that dang translator implant," he groaned,  
and proceeded slowly after her.  
  
---  
  
"Gi, I don't how much I can trust Randy," Usagi informed him, eyes  
casting about warily as they walked through the night darkened streets  
of the 'burbs.  
  
Garen merely shrugged, "I guess not. That's up t' you. I'm jus' sayin'  
he ain't never hurt me, an' never lied t' me, not once. So..."  
  
"But that's your experience with him, not mine. If I decide I don't  
like him, I'll leave. I'll turn my back and tell him where to go and  
how to get there."  
  
Garen gazed at her, somewhat surprised by the direct nature of the  
words which seemed to flow so easily from her mouth.  
  
"Yeah, well... that's up t' you Bunny. I ain't gonna force ya, I'm  
jus' tryin' t' help."  
  
Usagi gave him a steady look. The colour of her face had deepened, and  
the sickly thin look had faded. Garen had been mistaken. It had taken  
more than a couple of days to arrange the meeting. It was just as  
well, he figured. It had taken her more than two days to get better.  
The operation she had undergone was still having adverse effects on  
her body. Apparently it was a serious strain for her.  
  
Garen knew that all too well, however. Usagi's eyebrows knitted in  
concern.  
  
"I know, Gi. I really appreciate it." She glanced away. "I guess we'll  
just have to see how it goes."  
  
They continued on for a while in silence, until Usagi felt something.  
It was like a sliver of the NegaForces' evil had reached her somehow.  
She could feel some kind of infamy nearby. Like the Splugorth. She  
shuddered.  
  
:Let's not go there; she thought. :Those Slug-orths are the last thing  
I need to think about right now:  
  
Garen noticed the tension on her face.  
  
"Heya... is somethin' wrong dere Bunny?"  
  
She gazed over at him briefly.  
  
"I dunno. I'm just feeling something... it's... like, evil."  
  
"Well, we's here. I dunno know if, well... Uh. Nevermind. I don'  
matter," he shrugged. Pushing open a haggard looking door, he gestured  
for her to enter. With all the hesitance of a scared mouse, she did.  
  
Inside, the building was more immaculate than anything she had seen  
since her bedroom after a quick tidy by her Mom. The sense of evil  
became steadily stronger. Slowly, she began to feel his gaze upon her.  
She squinted. In the darkness sat a man with black and gold streaked  
hair. His eyes glinted a curious tan colour.  
  
"Garen, would you be so kind to leave us?" he asked, his voice  
strangely comforting.  
  
"No!" Usagi snapped. "No. Whatever you can tell me you can tell him.  
Tell me why you wanted to see me."  
  
Garen balked, beginning to wonder if this was the same mousy female  
who's life he had saved.  
  
"Do you trust him that much?"  
  
She nodded, her expression firm. "A heckuva lot more than I trust  
you."  
  
'Hai, then, Tsukino Usagi,' he continued, in fluent Japanese. 'Where  
is Hino Rei?'  
  
'What are you talking about? I haven't seen her since the explosion  
back in Japan!' Usagi replied, looking shocked, and hurt.  
  
Garen sighed, and took a seat.  
  
:May's well get used t' not knowin' much; he thought in resignation.  
:I only saved 'er life 'n all that crap:  
  
The fellow gazed over at Garen suddenly, his expression soft.  
  
"Nonsense, my friend. As a matter of fact, I think I might have a task  
for you."  
  
"Yea? Erm... like what?" Garen asked, standing.  
  
"Like helping Usagi here find her other friends."  
  
Usagi growled unpleasantly.  
  
"Give me one good," she swore harshly, "reason to trust you," she  
snarled, eyes squinted angrily.  
  
He stood.  
  
"I represent someone who has a sharp interest in your lives."  
  
Usagi backed away as he approached her. It was him, he was the source  
of the evil. He reeked so strongly of it. She was torn. The idea of  
being reunited with the others was an offer she found so difficult to  
turn down. This man, however, nigh literally smelled of evil that  
reminded her of every pain this realm had introduced into her life,  
and of the NegaVerse back home.  
  
:I'm not going to take another chance, not even for the other senshi:  
Without a word, she turned, and began to leave.  
  
"Usagi, wait."  
  
She turned, eyes narrowed sharply, face drawn in an angry scowl.  
  
"I'm sorry, Usagi, that I can't hide that from you. It is my nature,  
but not my intent," he offered in unaffected tones. "I can't control  
that. And please, don't mistrust Garen because of me."  
  
Usagi left, leaving the space for her reply empty as the depths her  
heart had fallen to. Garen shook his head.  
  
"Huh," he grunted. "Ya think she's it?"  
  
The black haired man nodded self-assuredly.  
  
"There's no question of it. Help her find her friends. She will die if  
you do not."  
  
Garen's eyes widened.  
  
"Ya ain't foolin, is ya?"  
  
"No," was his simple reply. Garen shrugged, and left. Outside, Usagi  
had curled into a ball on the ground, and was sobbing into her arms.  
Garen knelt down next to her, and put a hand on her arm.  
  
"I'm sorry," he heard her mutter as she cried. "I couldn't."  
  
"'S okay Bunny..." he touched her shoulder, and let her wrap her arms  
about him. 


	19. Contract Upon Courier

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 18: Contract Upon Courier  
  
Between them was nary even room to breathe. Not in months had she  
looked upon a respectably suited man. Naturally, this fellow lacked in  
respect what he obtained in fear, and simple-minded followers. She,  
opposite him, was the picture of leather jacketed cool as she read the  
animalistic desire in his squarish face.  
  
"Nice aren't they. Try it," she dared him. "Grab me. I'll kill you,  
and walk out of here smiling."  
  
His mouth opened, hands vaguely indicating the well armed, formally  
suited thugs stationed carefully throughout the spacious room.  
  
"Smiling," she reiterated. He bowed his endangered head with respect.  
  
"Ease up fellas," his icy-cool tones decreed. He stepped around her,  
placing his arm around her tense shoulders, and patting her  
comfortably.  
  
"You too. I ain't gonna hurt you, blondie. I'll admit," he uttered  
with an affected, and vaguely inaccurate Italian accent as he led them  
towards a small oak table. "The thought had occurred, but... I like  
your nerve."  
  
He pulled out a recently restored chair and proffered it to her.  
  
"Let's eat."  
  
:Eat?; she balked, giving no indication of her astonishment and wonder  
at who actually had the "nerve". Yet, rather than offend him, she  
accepted.  
  
"So, you come to Val lookin' for work, eh?" he curtly questioned with  
a slightly worn expression. This young man had seen much violence for  
his age. "You know I gainfully employ over three hundred men... thanks  
Teresa," he half smiled at the maid costumed girl who served them  
delicious smelling plates of grated cheese sprinkled spaghetti.  
  
"Jus' so you know blondie - you mind if I call you blondie? - I never  
assaulted even pretty girls like you," he professed. "But you knew  
that, eh?"  
  
"What I said..."  
  
"No empty threat," he drawled. "But let us not dwell on these  
pleasantries. You have not tried the wine. Does it bother you? Does  
two hundred years of age not sit well with you? Tony..."  
  
She blinked, slipping her hand around the slight crystal, and easing  
it to her lips. A sip indicated to her the truth of his words, and as  
she did, he nodded, seeming pleased.  
  
"You need not fear me. Tony would only have given you something more  
to your liking. Ah, well, let us discuss why you are here. Uh," he  
paused, glancing reluctantly up from his dinner. "Why are you here -  
exactly?"  
  
"I'm a Freelancer," she began. "Looking for work. You've got it. I  
want some."  
  
"Ah, yes, the Blessed Virgin has been kind to me," he smiled  
hintingly. "But there is no dancing around the subject with you, eh  
blondie? You're going to do well here. You will make plenty of credits  
working for me."  
  
It was the only way. How they had learned of her virginity hardly  
mattered. What did was that they knew, and that there was interest in  
it. Of course. She was only free working courier who remained so  
unchanged from the point of birth. She had learned rather quickly that  
it took often a tad more than verbal denial to defend it.  
  
She would not succumb, she felt angrily. The portal had taken  
everything, her friends, her home, her guardian Artemis... The  
merciless tapestry would not claim her maidenhood! Yet, nor was it,  
strangely, difficult to enforce. In resorting to the physical as she  
had first transformed into Sailor Venus, the point that her skin could  
reflect bullets, and that her strength was sufficient to kill  
barehanded came as a striking comfort.  
  
Allying herself with Valance Carosa was part of her effort to protect  
her physical innocence. It was well known that while there had been  
many deaths dolled out by his gang, the leader had no tolerance for  
the abuse of women. Blame his mother, the great Maria Carosa, the  
notorious gangleader, who survived her own beating and rape, and  
husband's assassination by undergoing partial conversation into a very  
feminine cyborg.  
  
Valance promised a very special and unique task for the gifted young  
woman, by which a rival gang would tumble to pieces, which he could  
collect with relatively little trouble. In response to the question of  
loyalty, he had explained:  
  
"You and I got no relationship, blondie. There are no hard feelings to  
sour us, and turn you against me. Besides, I've been watching you.  
You've never turned your back on a job, or an employer."  
  
:Would you rather have called me "stupidly loyal"?; she thought with  
bitter sarcasm.  
  
He knew very well what he had admitted. That, like the others, his  
organization too, was unstable. Then came the dwelling upon the nature  
of the assignment. Assassination. A matter she approached with much  
understandable hesitance, but then, in the light of her current life,  
many other arguments came into play.  
  
She was alone in a largely selfish world, full of selfish individuals.  
If she did not fend for herself, no one else would. She had no  
friends, and no support to rely upon. It was do, or die. Thus far, she  
had managed well enough, her beauty giving her leeway and access to  
work, and much needed sympathy, even if it was feigned.  
  
Ultimately, there were two choices for work: Use her beauty, trading  
her morals for respectable sums of credits by undesirable means, or  
take the "tough girl" route. This meant fighting, and proving her  
toughness in a male dominated business. She sometimes wondered what  
the alternate to her current path might have been like, but knew she  
would not have allowed herself to suffer the degradation. Indeed, her  
strength had empowered her, enabling her to select her own path.  
Maimed men cannot argue. When it came down to it, this was the only  
way.  
  
Anthony Lincenti had to die.  
  
Getting in was no hassle. Posing as a prostitute and letting the  
drunken, staggering quad of ape-like men drool and paw her as they  
escorted her into the empty kitchen bypassed that obstacle. It was  
shaking them loose afterward that was the complicated part. By the  
time they had arrived, her tank top had been removed, and three of  
them had gotten a feel of her smallish bra-clad breasts.  
  
"Hey," grunted the shortest member as he pushed up her skirt as she  
sat upon a cutting board. "Wassis?"  
  
"End of the line," she hissed, palming the vibro dagger and plunging  
it into his neck as it hummed brightly to life.  
  
"Whoa!" was the second's last shocked word as she kicked her long,  
shapely legs into his face before slamming the humming energy blade up  
to the hilt in his black jacketed torso.  
  
"Oh," the third swore, as his hand diving under his coat, grasping at  
the small concealed energy pistol within. His stocky corpse dropped  
like so many bags of course sand, motionless, and apparently no worse  
for wear.  
  
The forth raised his hands, shaking his head fearfully.  
  
"I ain't armed. I ain't armed!" he nearly stammered, tones of abundant  
fear unhidden in his voice. "Don't kill me!"  
  
She paused over his pitifully cowering, hunched over body.  
  
"If you run very far, very fast, and never come back."  
  
Before she had time to blink, he was up and scrambling away,  
apparently quite thankful for his existence. Alone, finally, she had  
something else to consider. She need clothes.  
  
Sailor Venus.  
  
No. How could she dare assassinate someone in that uniform? To  
dishonour the Senshi... her face twisted in discomfort and anger.  
However, under no circumstance was she going in half-dressed. Okay, so  
the logic was fuzzy.  
  
Minutes of searching procured a white ankle length chief's uniform,  
which she found to be a little more than two sizes too large. Oh well.  
Move on. The halls of the newly constructed cafe seemed oddly empty,  
and hushed. It was not long before she realized precisely why.  
  
"I'm tired of takin' the bullets for Anthony Lincenti," bellowed an  
anger charged voice. "I lost my arm cause'a you!"  
  
"Blame me," a second, slightly raspy voice replied. "Blame yourself,  
because you disrespect me, and when you disrespect me, you disrespect  
my house."  
  
"Disrespect?! I took more bullets, killed more guys than any mug here!  
You talk to me about disrespect...! I'm gonna kill you Anthony!"  
  
The voices gradually became clearer, and more pronounced as she neared  
the source through a backstage passageway, which in turn gave her  
direct access to the lounge. She crept around the dancing poles used  
by numberless female entertainers as she peeked through a hole in the  
thick red curtain, catching a view of the lonely vocal combatants.  
  
"You whine so loudly I barely understand you, Vincent. Leave now, and  
no dishonour will come upon your household."  
  
"What household?" he shrieked. "My family is dead! Goodbye Mr.  
Lincenti!!"  
  
She squinted and grimaced, grim-faced at the yellow flash of light,  
which very simply ended Anthony's already short life.  
  
"You!"  
  
She jolted, her hands jerking the curtain visibly as his sleek-looking  
energy weapon met her direction.  
  
"Come out of there!"  
  
Her hand slid to her inner thigh while the other parted the long  
hanging coat, where she palmed another energy dagger, the unactivated  
hilt of which fit snugly in her hand. A flick of the highly sensitive  
switch would bring it to deadly life.  
  
"I said...!"  
  
"Okay okay!" she replied, stepping out onto the edge of the stage  
beyond the swaying curtains. His eyes traced her lines, and gauged her  
appearance.  
  
"A cook?"  
  
"No."  
  
You know what they say about good intentions, right?  
  
"Cute, whatever you are. You here to kill me?"  
  
She shook her short haired head.  
  
"I was supposed to kill Anthony."  
  
Half truth.  
  
"Too bad. Looks like you lose out."  
  
"I don't know," she shrugged. "I could take the credit."  
  
Don't ask why.  
  
"You'd do that? Save me plenty of trouble, blamin' you. But not out of  
the kindness of your sweet little heart, though."  
  
"Not on your life. Which, I might mention, is in jeopardy."  
  
"I am well aware of my social standing, girl."  
  
Her eyebrows arched, her mouth twisting in faint anger.  
  
"Not really," she replied boldly, flicking on the slim dagger, the  
hilt of which issued forth a stiletto-style energy blade. "Go ahead.  
Shoot me. I can take it."  
  
:She can't be wearing armor under that; he thought. :She's got a real  
lean figure... no bulk for built-in armor, either. She must be...:  
  
"Hey, you're that D-Bee, ain't ya? Anim, or whatever. You got some  
rep."  
  
"You know what, creep? I'm going to give you a choice."  
  
His mouth curled at the insult, as if he actually gave a damn about  
her thoughts regarding him. His hand worked for a moment on the handle  
of the gun.  
  
"What, you gonna say die fast or die slow?"  
  
Anim frowned, cursing herself. She was taking too long. He should be  
dead already. Any longer and she might lose her nerve! As if in  
response to his unease, she bent her wrist back into the first part of a flicking motion that could easily end her opponent's life.  
  
"Not anymore," she hissed, flinging the blade with inhuman accuracy at  
him. His hand clenched as the knife sunk into his jacket, a white bolt  
hitting her shoulder.  
  
One hand clenching the burn upon her left shoulder, she exited the  
life-starved scene, head hanging with a disconcerting stark  
indifference holding her slender being.  
  
---  
  
"I like you. You're good. You know how many men I've lost because of  
that childish coward?"  
  
She shook her head numbly.  
  
"Too many. I won't make the mistake of opening my arms to you, my  
family is not safe for you. Though I will always welcome you to my  
house, Anim."  
  
Her eyes reached up and held his half-smiling face. Probably about as  
much as the stern looking mask would allow. Her nod was slight, but  
words sincere as she spoke.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Carosa."  
  
"Valance, even Val," he offered, drawing a conical wineglass to his  
thick lips.  
  
"Would do you me a favor?"  
  
"You need only ask," he replied kindly.  
  
"There is a contract on my virginity," she stated, hoping she was  
concealing her deep, anger sparking fear. "I would appreciate it if  
you would cancel the source of it."  
  
"Done. Tony. Take some men and locate the contractors, and explain to  
them that we do not like very much the trespass upon the sanctity of  
the friend of our family, eh?"  
  
The heavily muscled fellow nodded, pointing at a handful of men to  
accompany him. Neither admitted to the truth: One of Valance's men had  
issued the contract, one with whom he was very intimate. Yet, it  
solved the problem of the betrayal, even while creating a large  
emotional rift within his "house."  
  
"Sit, blondie, and eat. We have much yet to do in this little city." 


	20. The Blond Bombshell

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 19: The Blond Bombshell  
  
She snarled, blocking the strike as it came in, the tip of the blade  
reaching for her midsection. Her naked fist landed solidly, crushing  
her attacker's skull. The first of the four was thrown backwards into  
a sewer grate which rattled loudly at the impact.  
  
"Who's next," she hissed, her blue eyes cold as they danced over her  
opponents. Another answered her call without so much as a word. She  
merely stepped aside as the quarter staff missed her. Taking the end  
of the weapon in her hands gave her control over the warrior that held  
it. She pulled, and let her foot sink into the stomach of the black  
robed and hooded attacker, who doubled over, groaning.  
  
Her short straight blonde hair snapped sharply as she turned, looking  
for the last two warriors of the quad. She found the alleyway to be as  
empty as she felt of late. Unarmed, the choice had seemed obvious as  
to who their victim was to be. It turned out to be as evident as who  
would be dead at the end of the encounter. Relaxing somewhat, she  
turned back to the winded ninja.  
  
"Go on," she said, sounding tired. He did not seem to require any  
convincing, as he ran off hurriedly, thankful for his life.  
  
She sighed heavily and walked towards the darker end of the alleyway,  
where the sallow light faded to no more than shards and fragments.  
Garbage and mud squished audibly under her feet as she walked. She  
ignored the beggars and other would-be loyal Coalition citizens. As  
she tugged at her leather jacket, trying for warmth that just was not  
there, the darkness of the alleyway gave way to a street as it opened  
to the low lifers' end of 'modern' society. She realized dully that  
the street was no more clean than the alleyway, just better lit.  
  
"Yo, city rat!"  
  
At first she did not respond to the voice, figuring it to be meant for  
someone else, but as it called again, she noted that it was closer.  
  
"Hey, city rat!"  
  
She stopped and turned. The look on her face asked; me?  
  
"Yeah, you," replied a short leather swathed individual. He sported a  
pair of shades, covering what she figured were a lot of sleepless  
nights. He approached her, seeming very confident. She put her hands  
on her hips, and tried not to take notice of the Juicers, Cyber  
Snatchers, and other strange beings that grumbled and complained at  
her sudden pause as they passed.  
  
"What do you want?" she asked, trying to look and sound angry, fearing  
it was not working. It occurred to her that she was glaring down at  
him. She could not tell if her ploy was effective, due to his  
sunglasses, which hid any fear in his eyes.  
  
:Well; she thought, :there's another reason for the shades:  
  
"We might wanna start walkin', unless ya wanna get stepped on," he  
suggested.  
  
She did not budge.  
  
"Why, where are you going?"  
  
"Wherever yer goin' babe," he grinned.  
  
"If you value your life, you'll leave, now," she warned.  
  
The grin faded. He removed his sunglasses, revealing a pair of green  
cybernetic eyes.  
  
"Sorry, but I can't do that sweetie. See how it is. I bin lookin' fer  
ya. Y'see, I bin hangin' wit' one o' yer friends o' late."  
  
For the first time in a year, she felt a shard of hope. So, she  
grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and held him off the ground.  
  
"What do you know..." she snarled faintly, "...that I haven't heard?"  
  
"Put me down willya?" he said, only sounding slightly unsettled, and  
even more annoyed. "Yer not gonna get anythin' outta me doin' this!"  
  
She set him down.  
  
"I figure you're lying to me, I'll kill you. Got it?"  
  
He nodded curtly. "I saw what ya did t' the quad back there. Those  
guys 're Japanese cyber snatchers ya know," he remarked. "Don' think  
I'm gonna risk m' life for nottin' here. And frick, I know ya work fer  
Valance."  
  
She squinted at him, a sour expression on her face.  
  
"You're either pretty brave or pretty stupid. Personally, I'd place a  
bet on pretty stupid." She turned on one foot and set off at a brisk  
pace.  
  
He stood there, looking stunned, before he realized she had gone.  
  
"Hey city rat, wait up!"  
  
Once he had caught up to her, she tersely supplied; "The name's Anim,  
jerkface."  
  
"Uh-huh," he replied, "I know."  
  
Again she glanced at him, attempting to gauge his intelligence, or  
lack thereof. He replaced his shades to his face, apparently not  
terribly comfortable without them.  
  
:Coward; she thought. :Just like the rest of us:  
  
"So tell me something about my friend," she started. "And I'll let you  
know how close to the truth you are."  
  
He grunted.  
  
"I'm a thief, not a liar," taking pride in the fact. "Well, she's  
ain't doin' so hot, wit th' prosthetic 'n all."  
  
She held her breath for a moment as a makeshift garbage service  
vehicle passed by unhurriedly.  
  
"Prosthetic? What's she look like?"  
  
"About five somethin', tall n' slim - like you, blond hair wit'  
meatballs, an' two spaghetti strings hung down behind 'em," he laughed  
coarsely. "She calls 'em dumplin's, but I just call 'em funny. I ain't  
never seen th' like!"  
  
"How do I know it's her? And how do I know you aren't going to turn me  
over to the Coals?"  
  
"Look legs, I know yer rep. Ya kin kill me wit' a flick o' ya wrist,"  
he reached for something in an inside pocket.  
  
"Legs?!" she snarled, whirling upon him, a small, slender vibro dagger  
clenched in a tensed hand.  
  
"Besides, sh' told me ta give ya this," he handed her a small star  
shaped locket, apparently none too concerned about her flaring anger,  
and vibrant vibro weapon.  
  
"Oh friggin' hell," she cursed in emotion torn tones, taking the  
golden object in her hand quickly as she disarmed the small weapon in  
the other. "She's alive."  
  
Turning away, she wiped at something she had not felt in ages; tears.  
  
"Ya alright there honey?" he asked almost tenderly.  
  
She nodded, not looking at him.  
  
"Y'know, yer awfully pretty for a city rat," he ventured. She turned  
to him and smiled faintly. The smile was quickly gone, and was  
replaced by a forced expression of false strength.  
  
"C'mon low-life, what are you waiting for," she said, "take me to  
her!"  
  
---  
  
Trembling, she fought memories of the violence, the pain... the vivid  
sensation of him forcing into her... Tears surfaced again, she could  
not seem to fight them this time, even though she had successfully  
held them back before. As warm tears flowed, she hoped that Garen  
would soon find one of the senshi.  
  
:What about Mamoru?: Bitter tears of loss came forth as she thought of  
the love she lost, and missed so strongly. :I'll never see him again;  
she thought, head rested on her crossed arms. :He's still back on  
Earth. I wonder if he's found another girl. I hope she treats him  
well...:  
  
Again, as they had so many times before, the tears came, and in  
abundance. If not for Garen, Usagi knew she would have killed herself,  
or simply died. Without the others, she saw no point in living. There  
was no telling what could have happened after being separated by the  
Splugorth. She could all too clearly remember the slaver, the scars,  
and the escape. Usagi understood that escaping with her life, forget  
losing an arm, was rare, and extremely lucky. Through blurred eyes,  
she looked at her left arm, the shining metal of it. Tears welled  
again, and she felt herself succumb to them. Remembrance swept the  
feelings of loss back anew, and threatened to overwhelm her.  
  
"Senshi, where are you?" she sobbed, haggard.  
  
"I'm right here, Usagi-chan," said a vaguely familiar voice.  
  
Usagi did not look up, she merely ignored the voice.  
  
:It's not possible, not after all this time:  
  
"Usagi-chan?" A hand touched her shoulder. A glance upward through  
tears told her more than she needed to know.  
  
"Minako!" she sobbed, wrapping her arms around her. "Oh Minako! I was  
so scared you'd all died!"  
  
"Heh," Garen chuckled, "ain't this touchin'."  
  
Usagi ignored him until she let go of a friend she had long feared  
dead.  
  
"What are you still doing here, Garen?"  
  
"I told ya Bunny, I ain't leavin' ya. I's on yer side," he grinned,  
enjoying very much one of the few friendships he had ever experienced.  
"Won' hurt if I keep 'n eye on Anim and ya, eh?"  
  
"Fine Garen, fine," she replied, and turned back to Minako, failing to  
notice the alternate reference made of her friend.  
  
"Sit down Minako-san," she urged, "you look..." like hell. She did not  
complete the sentence.  
  
Taking the seat offered, she agreed; "Life has been rough."  
  
There was a silence, which she seemed to use to consider what she was  
going to say next.  
  
"I'd lost all hope that any of the others were still alive."  
  
Usagi handed her a small cup of tea she had just finished preparing  
from a boiling kettle on a small gas stove. Gingerly, Minako took a  
sip of it.  
  
"Hey, wouldya leave th' stove on Bunny? I ain't eaten yet."  
  
She nodded abscently at him she turned down the heat under the beaten  
looking half empty aluminum pot.  
  
"How did you know to find me here? It's been so long, I'd almost lost  
hope," she said. "This is good."  
  
"Thanks," she hesitated. "Rumors, and luck," she admitted. "I know...  
but the burbs are huge... I was glad to hear anything about you at  
all!"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Um, you don't mind if I ask about what happened after I... a-af...  
um..." she started again, her eyes dropping.  
  
Minako was silent for a moment before she started. She pulled back  
some stray hair.  
  
"Well, Makoto just kinda lost it. I don't think she was prepared for  
something like that to happen."  
  
"You mean... my arm," she added, knowing Minako could not.  
  
She only nodded.  
  
"She started shooting at everyone. I'd never seen her so furious!" She  
squinted in recollection. "She just flew into a frenzy. The two Altara  
Warriors we hadn't defeated yet fell, and then she started shooting at  
the Overlord. She hit him a few times, and he just shouted more  
orders. After the last few shots I thought she was done. She started  
again, though. She missed him a few times, and when she did hit, she  
hit the Staff of Eylor he was holding. The thing exploded. I remember  
being thrown some distance by the explosion. Next thing I remember is  
waking up here.  
  
"I've really survived here by the skin of my teeth," she said, the  
inflection lost on Usagi.  
  
"Um, I know. You work for a mob boss?!" Usagi blurted, aghast as she  
set down her tea.  
  
Minako frowned, an expression that did not do much for the softness of  
her features.  
  
"I don't have to explain, Usagi. You know how harsh it is here."  
  
It was true. Usagi wore loose brown pants, a heavy grey tunic, and a  
tattered hooded cloak. Her aforementioned meatballish hair seemed to  
have acquired a stylishly disheveled look, giving her the appearance  
of someone who was always on the run. She bore the permanent scars of  
claw marks on her right cheek, one of the many scars left from her  
capture by the Spulgorth. Minako looked no better. She wore black  
leather pants, a light, grey shirt, and a heavy leather waist length  
coat. It was clear that Minako had not removed the coat in several  
days. It looked as though she lived as much in that jacket as she did  
her one room home. Her hair looked somewhat unkempt, but only by a  
small degree. Her face had a somewhat aged, hardened look. Instead of  
looking like a teenager, she looked like a war worn girl of some  
twenty years of age.  
  
"But you... you're an assassin!"  
  
Abruptly she stood, stepping out of the personal space of her  
estranged friend.  
  
"So... I'm not going to curl up and die!" she retorted, gazing out of  
the secluded enclosure as Garen dropped several bullion cubes into the  
energetically bubbling pot. She turned and beheld the scored looking  
little camping stove, and frowned harshly.  
  
"I wouldn't even be a..." she stopped. "Alive. You know how many times  
I've nearly died here? Being Sailor Venus is the only thing that's  
saved me. I wouldn't even..." her voice dropped, "...have my  
virginity."  
  
"Oh God..." she whispered, a soul striking darkness beckoning tears to  
her eyes. Her head bowed, hands to her mouth.  
  
"We had it easy back home. Even fighting Queen Beryl. The NegaForce  
wouldn't stand a chance in a place like this," she observed, not  
gazing at her until the sentence had been completed. "What? Usagi?"  
  
"I don't... I'm not," she stammered, gazing somewhat desperately at  
her hardened friend. "I..."  
  
Minako's hand fled to her mouth.  
  
"What happened?" Well beyong the words, she knew.  
  
Usagi looked at Garen.  
  
"Would you leave us for a moment?"  
  
"Why? I know what happened. Heck, I saved ya..." he halted, looking  
puzzled. Then he clued in. "Ah, sure... I s'ppose so. You jus' turn it  
down if't boils up too much, eh?"  
  
She nodded. He left. They were silent for a time.  
  
'I was raped,' she admitted in Japanese, feeling her eyes fog, and a  
darkness crawl into her stomach. She set down the tea, the smell of it  
making her sick. Minako looked abruptly pale.  
  
'It was the Bluds,' her eyes dropped the floor, where they stayed for  
the delicate moment of silence. 'The leader... Garen killed him on top  
of me!'  
  
'Is that why he died so... oh Usagi!' Minako said, eyes imploring.  
  
Usagi sighed gently.  
  
'I ran off, up to the gates of Chi-Town, and... the Coals, they...'  
  
Minako's eyes narrowed angrily. Usagi's eyes echoed to a lesser  
degree.  
  
'Garen showed up again, and when I ran from them... a couple of Dog  
Boys followed me. I don't know how, but after Garen killed one of  
them, I transformed, and...' here I am. Her shoulders inclined  
upwardly.  
  
Anim blanched. 'But... I thought you'd lost the ginzuishou!'  
  
'It... I guess... it just came back. A good thing it did, too!'  
  
'Hai,' she glumly sighed. Her eyes wandered before settling upon her  
vastly missed friend. "You've been keeping your sailor suit hidden...  
I take it? No good to attract attention."  
  
Usagi's face hardened.  
  
'Hai, and what about you? Why did you side with Valance?'  
  
Minako replied what looked like a violence hardened half-smile.  
  
'He's safe, that's why. You've heard about him, right? If one of his  
men gives a woman so much a funny look they've had it.'  
  
'You're lucky.'  
  
'Hai,' she agreed. 'Don't think I don't realize that. I respect him,  
but he respects me too.'  
  
Her smile faded.  
  
'Did you hear about Makoto-chan? Supposed to be called 'Sliver' now.  
Quite the rep.'  
  
Usagi merely nodded.  
  
'The CS hate her.'  
  
'I just hope it's really her,' Minako wistfully stated, brushing aside  
some hair. Her face set in a serious expression. Usagi read it; Why  
aren't you crying?  
  
'I can't. I don't know why.' The expression on her face indicated to  
Minako otherwise, however. She leaned forward and took her lost friend  
in her arms in a hug. Usagi shed not a single tear. Minako was  
actually surprised; the former Usagi did nothing but.  
  
'By the Goddess I've missed you,' Usagi whispered faintly.  
  
'Me too,' Minako agreed, seeming unusually short-winded. The blond  
haired senshi let her friend go.  
  
'Do you think we can get back home?' she asked. Usagi startled at the  
question.  
  
'I...! I don't know. You know what Ami said... um... she...'  
  
"Yer not kiddin'," the short man began, sounding awed. "Yer really not  
from dis place, 're ya?"  
  
"Garen! You speak Japanese...?"  
  
"Uh, no. Got a translatin' imp lately," he replied, nonchalant, as he  
closed the thin, worn door behind him. "Works mighty good, I says. Oh  
heck... my soup!"  
  
"Sorry!" she blurted. "I was... I just..."  
  
"Uh.. forget it," he started as he turned switched off the gas under  
his greatly reduced breakfast.  
  
"What made you think we were?" Minako inquired softly.  
  
"Well, yer way t' pretty t' be hangin' 'round in the down side o' the  
'burbs, fer one. Well, ya look human. Not like 'em vanguard brawler  
guys. Wit dem it's just plain to see dey're D-bee. An' the Tirrvol?  
Y'seen 'em? Geez, nasty!"  
  
"Nasty looking," Minako agreed, "but they tend to be pretty nice."  
  
"What, you know some o' dem?" Garen asked with a suggestive  
expression, fetching a bowl from a disregarded cupboard and  
transferring the contents of the pot into it.  
  
"Well, a couple..." she admitted. She blushed as she realized his  
implication, then frowned. "Hey!"  
  
He laughed. Trying to forget the hentai nature of the thought, she let  
her mind wander.  
  
"Usagi-chan, if you followed a rumor to me, does that mean others can?  
Or will?"  
  
"The Coals," she gasped, her face paling. Reaching forth with her  
mind, she tried to detect the presence of any unwanted visitors. "No,  
I don't sense anyone besides us."  
  
"Uh... Usagi-chan, it's not safe here anymore," she advised, shrugging  
off the shock of her friend's apparent psionic ability in the light of  
her own change. "It's only a matter of time now."  
  
"You must have a place here," Usagi suggested. "We can go there."  
  
Minako nodded as she stood.  
  
"I'm actually living with Valance now, but... he probably won't mind.  
But, we can't stay there for very long. It won't be safe there  
either."  
  
Usagi looked puzzled. "Why not?"  
  
"No sense in endangering my job, and uhm... well, I picked up a little  
bit of magic over the last year."  
  
Usagi looked surprised.  
  
"What? You've got psionics, don't you? Everyone needs an edge.  
Anyway," she sighed. "We need to find the others."  
  
"Not 'til I eat," Garen delcared, sniffing the steam rising from the  
battered steel bowl. "I got rumblin's in m' tummy dat'd make a fury  
beetle roar sound like a purr!"  
  
---  
  
"Usagi-chan, you'll have to make sure no one is looking for us,"  
Minako said quietly to her as they walked through the dank smelly  
streets of the 'burbs.  
  
"Hey, what if they trace ya t' Val?" Garen asked stepping over a small  
pile of garbage in his path.  
  
"No. They won't mess with him on his turf," she said with a certainty  
that made him uneasy.  
  
"Wha' ya mean? Da Coals'll friggin' take on Lazlo! What makes ya think  
dey won' take on Val?"  
  
"They can't afford to fight a war right now. If they attack him, every  
gang this side of Chi-Town will strike back, on principle."  
  
"I dunno. It's damn risky. I don' get why ya bother?" Garen asked,  
reaching inside his long leather overcoat to verify the existence of  
his Wilks pistol.  
  
"Why? Because I don't want an imp' in my neck and a stamp on my  
forehead, smart guy." She glared at him.  
  
"Yeah yeah. Yeez, li' I don' get 't, eh?" he groaned. "Yer frickin'  
crazy, ya know dat? I dunno why I bother."  
  
"I thought you wanted to help us," Minako snapped impatiently.  
  
"Yeah, but ya think I wanna get killed in da process?"  
  
"Look, you can just shut your mouth, because you're stuck with us. Oh  
damn..."  
  
"Ah-huh, 'n double damn, sweetie," Garen stated, pointing towards the  
half dozen members of a Dog Pack.  
  
An armoured Dead Boy with spikes on his helmet pointed in reply  
towards them and shouted, "Halt Psychics!"  
  
"Go!" Garen said, "Run! I'll hold 'em off!" He fetched out his slim  
black energy weapon and fired. Usagi and Minako had already started  
off at a particularly impressive pace.  
  
"I can't just leave him behind like that! Is there something you can  
do to help him?" Usagi asked, looking somewhat surprised at her  
usually gentle natured friend. "He saved my life!"  
  
Minako gazed at Usagi for a moment, in an attempt to determine her  
naivete.  
  
"Well... I..." she sighed. "I suppose not." She muttered something  
under her breath. A few moments later, a blue shimmering outline began  
to appear about Garen.  
  
"That'll protect him for a bit."  
  
Something nagged at Usagi.  
  
:Has she really changed that much? She was never this cold!:  
  
"What is it?" Minako demanded when she realized Usagi was staring at  
her.  
  
"Nothing," she lied, then cast a glance backward. She swore. "Look  
back!"  
  
She did so just long enough to see a burst of yellow light where Garen  
had been standing. A large black airborne vehicle swooped over the  
ashes, blowing them into oblivion.  
  
"A Sky Cycle!" she cried. "Get down!"  
  
They dropped to the ground just as it dove for them, the rapid fire of  
its twin rail guns strafing the ground, and missing them. A pile of  
rubbish burst into flames ahead of them as the cycle performed a tight  
turn and sought its quarry once again.  
  
"We'll have to stand and fight," Minako decided. She quickly cast a  
spell.  
  
"What?" Usagi sounded startled. "We should run!"  
  
"Normal weapons can't hurt us," she said, sounding rather confident.  
"I'm going to take it out."  
  
Usagi took a step backwards from her friend.  
  
"Are you out of your mind? You can't do that!"  
  
"I can't? Just watch me," she said with an unpleasant grin.  
  
Usagi watched her suddenly battle hungry friend with apprehension. As  
the cycle neared them, Anim took a stance befitting a martial arts  
position of offense. The gattling guns in the lower retractable  
appendage began firing. Minako leapt backwards in a blindingly fast  
backflip. As she landed, the Cycle neared her, trying for a collision.  
She clasped her hands together and swung them forward and down. The  
Cycle shook as one of the smaller engines burst into flames.  
  
Usagi looked stunned.  
  
"Minako-chan?!"  
  
"Don't call me that! Call me Anim!" she snapped, looking irritated.  
"But you see, don't you?" Anim clapped her hands to her thighs to put  
out the flames.  
  
"Didn't hurt me," she held up her hands for the purpose of  
illustration, showing them to be unmarred. "We're not just human  
anymore. I can kill with my bare hands!"  
  
Usagi was still stunned. She did not even blink. It occurred to her to  
remember to breathe. She laboriously heaved several deep lungfuls of  
air, staring at Anim for some time before she saw the cycle return. It  
opened fire before the words of warning left her mouth.  
  
"Minako-chan!" she cried as Anim was thrown back by the force of a  
rail gun blast which hit her in the side of the face. Blood flew, and  
the blond haired girl screamed with ear shattering intensity. Hands  
fled to her face, crimson flowing onto them. Minako stumbled, fell  
against a wall, and then into a burning pile of rubbish.  
  
"You bastard!" Usagi bellowed in high tones, leveling her arm mounted  
energy weapon at the nearest approaching Grunt and firing. The mini  
rail weapon punched a baseball sized hole in his helmet, sending the  
body rolling backwards against his companion, who dropped with the  
Grunt.  
  
"Oh hell!" blurted the third, escaping the falling pair and rolling  
into an adjacent alleyway. "Back off Boys, she's loaded! Jamie, flank  
her, and Koey, don't you dare let him ago alone!"  
  
The golden retriever Dog Girl nodded with a hint of a snarl, and  
bolted off after the Bull Mastiff Jamie.  
  
"If you hurt any of my guys I'm gonna have your blond head on a  
platter!" he cursed loudly, ensuring his voice was clearly audible to  
his target.  
  
"You killed my friend!" Usagi shot back tearily, incinerating a chunk  
of wall and barely missing her mark.  
  
"We didn't want t' kill her," he replied, checking the power gauge of  
his energy rifle. "If she'd just've co-operated, none 'o this need've  
taken place."  
  
"'Submit to Fear'," she coined for him ferally. "Well I won't!"  
  
"You've got it wrong..." he insisted, noting the movement of Jamie and  
Koey some ten metres behind her. "We just want to help."  
  
Usagi turned to the noise of the Wind Jammer decending upon her, and  
cleanly severed the pilot's right arm with a clear shot. There was a  
cry, and a rumble as the black sky cycle slammed through the side of a  
building, where it burst into flames. Taking advantage of her  
distraction, Jamie leapt out, took her in a well practiced Half  
Nelson, and held her shrieking and squirming form in place.  
  
"We just want to help," the Psi-Net Officer insisted as he raised his  
gun and turned the butt end of it to face her. She tasted blood as it  
struck her in the face. She allowed herself to slip into a self  
induced death trance in the hopes that the sembalence of  
unconsciousness would protect her.  
  
She heard the light squishing sounds of an approaching armour.  
  
"Okay, she's all yours!" snarled the voice of the apparent commander.  
  
"Nice work Yaletown Kid," a strange voice laughed.  
  
"Damn Straight. Looks like yer Little Miss Potato Head put up one  
helluva fight. Howsabout the other one?"  
  
There was a silence.  
  
"Dead. No loss there."  
  
Usagi screamed internally.  
  
:No, Minako!!:  
  
"Both of 'em sure could fight. Hell... I figure we're damn lucky to be  
alive!"  
  
The ISS grunt must have nodded.  
  
"You got another Jammer here?"  
  
"Yeah, but looks like I was a little late, huh? Friggin' hell. Who was  
pilotin' that one?"  
  
"Meg."  
  
"Shit. Why Meg? They gotta pick off the good ones, don't they."  
  
"As if blondie here cared. Don't worry, they'll take it out of her  
hide at Lone Star. Why don't you grab her. I'll report in."  
  
"Okay. What about the other one?"  
  
"Naw, forget it. The rest o' them freaks need an example."  
  
Usagi felt herself lifted up by cold, uncaring arms.  
  
:Arigato gozeimashita Minako-chan! I tried. Forgive me: 


	21. Life After Death

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 20: Life After Death  
  
Reality swirled like a tornado, setting every sense aflare.  
  
"If I've estimated right, she should be awakening shortly," uttered a  
voice.  
  
"Good. I think we've waiting long enough to get things moving. I just  
hope she's receptive."  
  
Slowly those senses calmed. She became aware that the pain in her face  
was gone, and the loss of sight...? Her eyes snapped open. Both of  
them.  
  
She sat up and grabbed the nearest man by the throat. There were two  
of them, she noted. The fellow she assailed was a man of short brown  
hair, a classically handsome British-blue-blood-in-a-suit-and-tie  
(though not literally) man of romantic elegance, and a nearly  
undefinable boyish quality about him. As she focused on him, she began  
to see traces of color that should not be there normally... she saw  
reds, oranges and yellows in his form. She closed her eyes and put her  
free hand to them.  
  
"What have you done to me!" she demanded in a somewhat desperate tone.  
  
The man she had been holding must have tried to speak. She heard  
choking and gasping sounds. She relaxed her hand slightly, just enough  
for him to talk.  
  
"Think, Minako," he gasped, "had we desires to molest you, would we  
not have at least," he took a shallow breath, "restrained you? I have  
healed you," the choking man continued. "No more."  
  
It was not so much that she could hear him breathing, it was, that by  
choking him, she could feel his breathing efforts. She let go and  
hesitantly opened her eyes. The colors were gone. At least until she  
focused on someone, or something. She winced and shut her eyes again.  
  
"That would be the Thermo-Imager."  
  
Her eyes opened, her hand flew out and grasped the 'doctor' by the  
collar of his white formal shirt.  
  
"You've got some nerve," she began.  
  
"Saving your life?" he finished. "Perhaps. Though I doubt the  
alternative route would have been your first choice."  
  
"Maybe," she snarled, letting him go. :Now I owe this creep. Great. I  
don't need this!: "Why? And where's Usagi?"  
  
"Usagi was captured by the Coalition," Randy supplied with some  
measure of unrest. "Before you ask anything else, know that a rescue  
effort is being organized."  
  
"Organized!?" she snarled. "Is that it? What makes you think that's  
going to matter...?"  
  
"Okay, you're getting a little ahead of yourself, and us," the light  
haired brunette sighed as he ran a hand through those short lengths.  
"We'll tell you everything... under a certain condition."  
  
Anim paled.  
  
"Condition nothing! Either you tell me what I want to know, or I turn  
this dump into a flaming heap," she gritted, reaching for a vibro  
dagger on the inside of her right thigh.  
  
"Okay, go for it."  
  
"Uh..." she paused, realizing, as she flicked on the sleek dagger,  
that they had not disarmed her. These guys meant business. She  
switched the dagger off, an awkwardly mute expression on her pretty  
face. "Uhm... what were you guys saying?"  
  
The light haired young man gave his dark haired companion a "you see?  
It worked" glance, and proceeded to elaborate.  
  
"Here it is: You've been seperated from your companions by a force you  
know little to nothing about. We're going to help you by rejoining you  
with your friends."  
  
"Uh-huh, sure, who? You tell me, okay?"  
  
"Deal," he replied nonchalantly. "Usagi Tsukino, Rei Hino, Ami  
Minuzno, Makoto Kino, Mamoru Chiba, and a couple who describe  
themselves as Luna and Artemis. The latter three we have located, and  
offered sanctuary."  
  
"Whoa," she started, caught off guard by his accuracy. "Couple?  
Sanctuary? Located?!"  
  
"Well, yes. I expect you'll want to converse directly with them. That  
can be arranged, provided we have a deal."  
  
"Deal? That's not nearly going to hook me," she replied very  
conditionally, before her voice became somewhat mousy. "Well, um,  
actually, it has, but I want to know more. Like who the heck are you?"  
  
"My name is Carl, I replaced your damaged face and eye. Randy here,"  
he gestured towards the stocky man beside him, "supplies everything  
else. This building, for example, belongs to him."  
  
"Dandy. So who are you workin' for, and what do they get for helpin'  
us out?"  
  
Carl fell silent, accepting a glance from the black haired fellow  
apparently named "Randy", and nodded.  
  
"Knowledge," he said. The doctor held his silence.  
  
:Feasable: she though, unmoving as sat there for a while, the depth of  
her concentration visible.  
  
"You want to study us," she stated, certain of herself.  
  
"Not exactly. Our interest is much more, shall we say, abstract. The  
point of it is, what if I were to say we could tell you more about  
yourself," Randy offered. "If I were to offer you safety."  
  
She considered this.  
  
"Obviously you know enough about me to know that I have nowhere else  
to turn."  
  
He remained silent. The question remained unanswered.  
  
"And if I tell you creeps to take a flying leap...?"  
  
"You've been running for a very extended period of time. I don't  
honestly believe you wish to continue that lifestyle," Dr. Silver  
piped in, certain of the painfully self evident truth.  
  
"You'd be surprised," she noted halfheartedly. "I've managed pretty  
well over the last year. Oh, I'm sorry, you probably already knew  
that."  
  
"Actually, we didn't. Not in detail anyway, aside from your black  
market alliance," the brown haired doctor observed to her, paying some  
tribute to her apparent intelligence by offering information that was  
more than obligatory. "Your choice in the uniquely moral Valance  
Carosa led us to believe you still have hope for the future."  
  
"Basically, we would disavow any knowledge of you if you decided to  
turn us away," Randy concluded, finally able to slip a word in  
edgewise. "I assure you that we would most regret having to do that."  
  
She fell silent once again, praying in her mind that she was not being  
taken for a fool.  
  
"So how long have I been out?"  
  
"A week and three days," the doctor supplied.  
  
She nodded, masking her surprise easily.  
  
"If you really know what's up with Artemis, send him in. I want to  
talk to him."  
  
"I'm afraid it's not that simple. They are currently residing in  
England, and we are not."  
  
"Okay... you can tell me this, though... how is," she hesitated for a  
half instant, "um... he doing?"  
  
"I don't honestly know if it's my place to tell you."  
  
"You're too nice to be a government type," she replied sharply. "I  
don't get you. Not that it actually matters, or anything. Screw it.  
Tell me. It can't be that bad."  
  
She knew however that it certainly could, and probably was.  
  
"He's human. As far as we can tell, he's always been, though he  
insists he was a feline before his arrival here."  
  
"He was!" she blinked, falling silent.  
  
"So he's not crazy."  
  
"Bloody hell no," she groaned. "Though I feel like I'm poppin' a few  
loose... Where did you say he was?"  
  
"England."  
  
"Oh hell..." she squinted, gleaning just how much weaving Phate had  
added to her personal tapestry.  
  
It was a cinched knot.  
  
"The explosion that seperated you brought them to there, just outside  
if New Camelot."  
  
"I don't buy it. They weren't there when that happened!"  
  
Doctor Silver shrugged.  
  
"I don't blame you for not trusting me. I could be deceiving you, but  
somehow, I think, even if I am - which, I assure you, I am not - you  
would know."  
  
She fell silent. He was right, after all. She could read his emotions.  
Words were much easier to falsify than the latter. With training, it  
was possible, but highly unlikely.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said halfheartedly. "But trust you I won't... until  
I've talked to Artemis."  
  
:Then at least you don't deny the truth, Minako:  
  
She startled. :Don't. I'm not Minako anymore:  
  
The British doctor sighed.  
  
"Perhaps a bit of your history will settle your attitude somewhat." He  
heaved a deep lungful of air. "You come from Earth. Tokyo,  
specifically. There, you - apparently - fought creatures from another  
universe who were looking to take over. In that respect, these two  
realities aren't that different. It's just that here, there are a  
multitude of races out to dominate, rather than just one. You and your  
- it's five, I believe - friends continued to subvert them, until an  
elemental lion appeared and brought you here through a strange blue  
portal. Am I right so far?"  
  
"To a 'T'," she admitted. "Go on."  
  
"That 'strange portal' is what's called a 'rift', around here. They  
have an unfortunate habit of linking one dimension to the next. More  
often than not bringing what we call D-Bees and other unusual,  
powerful, and more regularly than we'd like to admit, dangerous beings  
to our world. What to we do about it? Arm up, for the most part. Of  
course, that doesn't include the magic users, and psychics who make  
use of their own abilities to survive.  
  
"When you arrived, you had no knowledge of the powerful beings who  
exist here. So, when the Splugorth Slaver barge appeared, they took  
you without a fight. You were all taken to Atlantis, and held until  
you would have been sold. Until a young woman by the name of Sivil  
Nira determined that she could escape."  
  
'What!?' Anim gasped, slipping into her native tongue, eyes wide,  
quite aghast. 'How do you know that?'  
  
'I was her superior, and friend,' he replied sharply in the same  
language, making Anim feel somewhat guilty. There were more sacrifices  
being made for their lives than she had realized.  
  
"I never asked her to die for me," she stated weakly, dropping back  
into English, somewhat uncomfortable by his unerring ability to  
understand her, knowing further than on any terms her words meant  
little.  
  
"It was her job, Mina. She was sent there to save you. She was a  
special woman. You should be grateful for what she did."  
  
Anim could not speak, nor meet his eyes.  
  
"In any case, you succeeded. You fled to a supply vessel bound for  
Europe. Apparently, you fought some Blind Altara Warrior Women when  
you attempted to escape the ship. There was an explosion and the  
rest... you know, not us."  
  
"I guess you want me to fill you in."  
  
"If you would be so kind."  
  
"Okay, but I want to know how picked that info up. Mamoru and the  
others," her eyes wandered wistfully, "there's no way they would've  
known any of that."  
  
"What Mamoru knows is for you to discuss with him," Randy noted with  
an odd amount of consideration for one in his apparent position. "As  
for the rest of it, suffice to say that we have very - observant  
friends," he finished. "Any other questions?"  
  
'Hai,' she said, "This eye thermo-thingy you gave me is really  
annoying. How in hell do I control it?"  
  
"That will take time for you to learn, but I will teach you."  
  
"That's a comfort," she replied sarcastically. "When do I get back  
together with my friends?"  
  
"I think we may be able to arrange a meeting."  
  
Despite the sarcasm in her tones, Minako had never felt happier in her  
life, and more afraid.  
  
---  
  
Despite the offerings made, things did not happen as quickly as she  
hoped they would. Randy supplied her with what he said was a 'secure'  
place to live. She accepted that, but never really became comfortable.  
  
The most exciting event over the course of the next few months  
consisted of her meeting with Artemis, Luna, and Mamoru. The trip  
itself took nearly a week to complete, due to the rifts and other  
distractions. It turned out that they were indeed living in a place  
called 'New Camelot,' and were, for the most part, quite comfortable,  
if not worried for the future.  
  
Entering the abode of Artemis and Luna altered Mina's relationship  
with her feline guardian forever. Standing there, looking at him,  
stunned, gazing over his six foot tall form swathed in white and blue  
robes, his silver hair cascading past shoulder length, eyes of blue  
gem's beauty, she wondered which Goddess had blessed him.  
Nevertheless, it was Artemis, and there was not a solitary doubt in  
her heart. Even in a different form he seemed so familiar.  
  
'Artemis-san...' she whispered as she ran to him. He caught her in his  
arms, weeping as she did, half-expecting her arrival to be another  
dream. As he held her, he realized they had truly been reunited, and  
that there was still some hope.  
  
'Mina-chan?' a familiar voice hesitantly inquired.  
  
'No,' she replied subconsciously. As her eyes fell upon this woman she  
instantly recognized her. 'Luna-san, I...'  
  
'So sorry,' the purple haired woman replied, closing her eyes as if  
pained. 'I understand, Anim-san. Is that what you are called now?'  
  
'Um... Hai, Luna-san. But I don't understand! I should be happy to see  
you. And I am, but...'  
  
Luna gazed at her expectantly. As Anim watched through the windows to  
her soul, she began to note a glimmer, one of pain, one so familiar,  
it struck a chord of deeply entangled agony within.  
  
'Luna...' she offered uselessly. What was there to say?  
  
'There is hope. I almost thought we'd lost,' Luna spoke softly, and  
tread ever more delicately. 'The senshi...'  
  
'There are no more senshi!' Anim snapped furiously. 'Damn it,  
Luna-san! Can't you see that? Usagi, Rei, Ami, and even Makoto are  
gone! The Bishoujo Sailor Senshi are no more!'  
  
Luna seemed calm despite her friend's outburst.  
  
'How can you say that? Of all the girls, you should understand...'  
  
'Understand what?' Minako blurted harshly, bringing a hurt look to  
Luna's face. 'That I can scrape by? Get serious. Usagi was okay back  
home because they never got serious. Here, one shot and its over! Just  
because she made it... to what, get captured by the lousy CS?!'  
  
Minako was crying. Tears poured rapidly over her bright red face while  
she stood there in confused fear and sorrow. She bowed her face as her  
hands reached up to cover it, and she felt Artemis near her.  
  
"No..." she whispered, stepping away and falling into the delicately  
patterned crimson couch, where she wept in quiet for several minutes.  
  
She was utterly flabbergasted. After all this time, to still be intent  
on the future of the senshi. How could they ever return? Even if they  
could, how could they stand a chance against the NegaVerse? If they  
had overrun Earth, they stood a better chance spending the rest of  
their 'lives' here, their home in exile!  
  
'Luna-san,' she gasped in a choked, raspy voice, 'What's more  
important to you? That we beat the NegaForce, or just friggin' turn  
out to all still be alive?!'  
  
Artemis put his hand on her shoulder as he sat next to her, all  
concern and sympathy. He understood her emotional position very  
intimately.  
  
'Minako,' he paused a moment for her to protest, which she did not.  
'You are.'  
  
That name... yet just then, it failed to bother her. There was so much  
pain behind what that name represented to her, but facing them, human  
as they were, and exuding such undiminished faith seemed to make it  
bearable. She gazed up, face flushed from the crying, and held her  
eyes, asking, wanting her to say it mattered.  
  
'There has never been anyone else more important to us,' she said very  
softly, very much the sole mother figure, in heart, and presence.  
  
She blinked, and glanced at the floor for a moment before sharing her  
heartfelt expression of thanks in facial adornment and vocal  
arrangement with her mentors, and guardians.  
  
'Thank you.'  
  
---  
  
Even with the apparent honesty of Dr. Silver - who's first name was  
Carl, she learned - she realized that she was continually tense. She  
was indeed waiting, but it was not for the information offered by her  
would-be-saviors. She was waiting for the betrayal, waiting for the  
next battle. Randy offered a training room, where she could spar to  
her hearts content. She found little enjoyment in the diversion.  
  
Part of her missed the edge of the life she had lead up to this point.  
Being safe dulled the danger of always having to run to stay alive.  
She started to remember her old self, Minako, the calm, quiet girl who  
could not take a life to save her own. On those thoughts, she knew  
that Minako just could not survive a place like this. It was all too  
harsh for a pretty pageant girl like that. Sure, there had been her  
life as Sailor V, and the adventures as Sailor Venus. But that was  
over now, gone like her friends. As her mind wandered to her friends,  
she came to thinking that if the rest were still alive, they were  
bound to have changed as she had. So far, the worst possible scenarios  
seemed to be showing in the violent tapestry that was the world of  
Rifts Earth.  
  
The thought of what might have happened to the others scared her.  
Usagi had seemed so different; calm, and withdrawn. She had always  
cried. At the slightest incident, she would break out in a fountain of  
tears. Now she did not seem to be able to cry. She did not even speak  
unless spoken to. Was that fear she had read in her eyes has she had  
hit the back end of the Wind Jammer Sky Cycle? No more pretty girl.  
Just Anim.  
  
Her hand touched the metal of her face, and felt the coldness of it. A  
warmth moved down from her eye of flesh, across the cheek.  
  
That's when she heard the knocking.  
  
"Minako?"  
  
The voice was male; familiar.  
  
"Come in," she said, voice somewhat hushed.  
  
The door opened. He poked his light brown haired head through the gap.  
  
"You alright? I just wanted to talk to you."  
  
"I'm fine," she lied.  
  
His face assumed a concerned expression.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
She gazed at him for a moment, thinking nothing, just looking at the  
soft build of his face, his dark blue eyes, the thick curl of his  
hair, the worry on his lip. She bit hers.  
  
"No."  
  
He came in and sat down beside her, and took one of her hands in his.  
  
"Talk to me," he offered.  
  
"I don't know if..." she hesitated.  
  
"If what?"  
  
"If anything."  
  
He looked at her for a moment, dropped his gaze, seeming thoughtful.  
He then looked back into her eyes and said, "What's the first thing  
you think of when your mind wanders?"  
  
It took her a moment to gather her nerve, and wits about her.  
  
"I... I think I'm waiting until I have to start running again."  
  
Carl merely nodded.  
  
"What about your friends? Have you thought about them?"  
  
"Hai. I have."  
  
"What about Mamoru? Why haven't you wanted to meet him? He's asked  
about you, and worries a great deal."  
  
Her face twisted with regret, and fear.  
  
"My guardians, Artemis, Luna... they changed so much. I'm not sure if  
I can face him, thinking how he might have changed..."  
  
Carl shook his head.  
  
"He really hasn't changed much that we can tell. He's all the human he  
ever was. With the acceptance of his metamorphosis abilities."  
  
Anim looked at him.  
  
"What do you mean? His henshin? You mean when he turns into Tuxedo  
Kamen?"  
  
"Well, no, I... forget it. That's not what I'm trying to get at. I  
mean his other, I guess, earth metamorphosis abilities. He's an Earth  
Child."  
  
Anim fixed him with a blank stare.  
  
"I don't suppose that I've really given you a choice, have I?"  
  
Anim sighed.  
  
"No. Thanks alot. Damn it... This whole bloody thing scares the hell  
out of me."  
  
He looked grim as she studied his face.  
  
"You know."  
  
He nodded slightly.  
  
"Yes. I indicated that previously, didn't I?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"You said you knew about them, not what happened to them."  
  
"Sorry. Vagueness seems to be one of my gifts. We've only just  
recently pinpointed Rei, Ami and Usagi. Today, in fact. They're in  
Texas. The Coalition caught Rei just before I left to help you.  
Apparently Ami's been there for quite some time."  
  
She grabbed him by the shoulders.  
  
"Tell me."  
  
"You don't have to strangle me, Anim..."  
  
She let him go.  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"That's quite all right," He hesitated. "Ami is amnesiac. She doesn't  
remember any of you. I don't know if it was the drugs, or just..." he  
had to stop.  
  
"It was the explosion," she said, head bowed.  
  
"What explosion?" He started, uncertain. Then his eyes widened as he  
remembered. "At the dock. By a dragon's tooth..." Carl lay a hand on  
her head. "I'm so sorry."  
  
"Maybe I should just be happy they're still alive," she muttered,  
shaking her head morosely.  
  
Carl opened his arms, and she leaned against him, her breathing  
shallow, her mind flooded. He thought to speak, but remained silent,  
not knowing what to say. He just held her, curious of what she had  
been like before her arrival here. He knew she had been proud of her  
beauty, and was quite tough despite what the Rifts had introduced into  
her life. He wondered what had happened to that girl. He was also  
amazed by what seemed to be developing between them. It seemed  
oddly... natural.  
  
"What else..." she asked wearily, sounding strained. Carl hesitated.  
He did not want to hurt her any further. "I have to know," she  
insisted.  
  
"They removed an arm, her left one, as a cruel experiment. Coupled  
with the exporatory surgry, they have reduced her to a half cyborg."  
  
A growl eminated from her throat as she leaned back, her face  
scrunching in an angry glare.  
  
"She'd have died if I hadn't intervened."  
  
She calmed slightly, looking Carl in the eyes.  
  
"Are you going back to see her soon?"  
  
"I... yes, as soon as the charges against Dr. Ravelli pass through."  
  
She looked puzzled.  
  
"I was almost caught. Still a chance I might be. If we're going to  
rescue her, it's going to have to be soon, because we're only going to  
get one chance, the way things are now."  
  
"Alright, but when?"  
  
A ponderous look passed over Carl's face.  
  
"Randy will handle it."  
  
She smiled.  
  
"Thank you!" she exclaimed, and kissed his cheek. She paused, and then  
kissed him on the lips. He smiled slightly, and kissed her tenderly in  
reply, lingering for a while.  
  
When the kiss broke, Carl asked of her with his eyes.  
  
She nodded, and, pressing her lips to his, took him in her arms.  
  
---  
  
Meeting with Mamoru was less awkward than she initially thought it  
would be. She was aware of his abilities previous to their encounter,  
she merely had no formal knowledge of what he had been through, and  
how the changes had come about. Artemis and Luna had talked at length  
about their experiences since arriving here. It rather seemed that  
just about any nightmare was quite possible here. Even hers. Most of  
Minako's worst nightmares had already been accomplished, whether by  
plan of the NegaVerse or by Phate. The first of which, being separated  
from the other senshi, had happened after arriving here.  
  
Being captured and - she shuddered - having forced relations with Rei,  
were not experiences she wished to repeat on any level. The next,  
losing Artemis; that had merely doubled the effect of her emotional  
pain. Then there was the last year in the 'burbs of Chi-Town. It  
really had not occurred to her as a base nightmare, but she soon  
discovered that the Rifts presented plenty of terrors that made the  
sight of a demon back home a rather comforting one. Survival had been  
hardly simple; but Minako often proved to be far more resourceful than  
her looks might imply. The worst parts of it had been the ignorance of  
the world around her, and not having any money.  
  
As a mystically augmented warrior, physical labour had solved the  
latter problem quickly, and had contributed to some rather unpleasant  
physical damages marring her remarkable beauty. Hard labour had never  
been her forte, but she could rely on her enhanced senshi reflexes and  
strength, and in the end, it turned out that was all she had left. As  
for Carl, he was kind, forward, and honest. She respected such things.  
Besides, he was stunningly attractive. She felt a link in him which  
brought comfort, and so spending one night with him... well, she felt  
it would not hurt.  
  
Even though she knew it was something Minako would never have done.  
Anim, on the other hand...  
  
Mamoru, as well, proved that he had not changed much in appearance.  
Somehow she felt he was more attractive than she remembered. As  
always, he seemed to radiate immeasurable calmness, but the serenity  
in his brown eyes seemed somehow disturbed. As with the others, it was  
plain to Minako that something had happened to him. Some innate change  
had altered him, and the way he perceived himself.  
  
Minako met him with a warm hug, feeling that it was the most she could  
allow him, even after being apart from him for so long. The way he  
dressed had not modified; he wore a black turtleneck sweater, and  
dress pants of white silk.  
  
:I could be wrong; she thought in amendment.  
  
His mouth proscribed amiable words when he spoke of his life here, how  
it had seemed to be refashioned to whatever will drove this world. He  
also reflected on his encounter with the ones responsible for their  
arrival in this terrible perversion of their own reality. The only  
point which bothered her to any extent was when he spoke of Tuxedo  
Kamen:  
  
'I do not know if I can protect you anymore as Tuxedo Kamen,' his  
voice was soft, but the words he spoke in his native Japanese betrayed  
his fears, and his doubt.  
  
'Why not? Because you could not protect Demelza?' Mina offered,  
feeling very much her old self, for the moment.  
  
'As Tuxedo Kamen, I wouldn't have dealt with it the way I did. As the  
Earth Child, my anger knew no bounds. I had no control.' He frowned.  
It was clear to her that it drew forth a dark anxiety from within him.  
She really could not claim to understand that. When it came to her  
anger, she used it. In the Black Market, it had become a catalyst and  
way of life.  
  
'You did not hurt her, though, Mamo-chan. You protected her. I do not  
see how that is different from what you would do as Tuxedo Kamen.'  
  
He gazed at her, amazed by the lack of understanding she displayed.  
The Minako he had known would have agreed. This estranged woman  
surprised him.  
  
'I killed it,' he stated ruefully. 'As Tuxedo Kamen I would never  
have...'  
  
'Usagi would have,' Minako interjected sharply. 'You did not have her  
to do that for you. Perhaps being an Earth Child gives you that. Would  
you rather be defenseless against the predators here? Would you run?'  
  
'No. Never. Not when Usagi's future is at stake...' he bowed his head.  
'I pray she's still alive.'  
  
Minako nodded solemnly. Mamoru's eyes fell to the metallic side of her  
face.  
  
'You have changed, Minako. Your face. I think it is symbolic of that.  
You are colder. You kill now, and easily.'  
  
'Hai,' she replied, eyes narrowed. 'I have survived. Very little seems  
to matter here. If I did not, I would not be alive now. Would you  
rather I simply gave up?'  
  
'No Minako-chan, do not mistake me. I understand what you have been  
through, but it is not easy to accept.'  
  
'Do you really? To be hunted because you are sexually innocent?'  
  
He blinked at her.  
  
'Not going to get into it.'  
  
He nodded.  
  
'I get the point,' he stated, clearly shaken.  
  
Minako turned away, arms folded over her breasts.  
  
'It's not the same for you. You have your strength to fall back on.  
It's different for men. They don't mind killing.'  
  
'What makes you think that? I did what had to be done. I'm not proud  
of it.'  
  
'No, but it doesn't bother...'  
  
'Stop. You're right. I don't know what you've been through. I don't  
even know you anymore.'  
  
She faced away from him for a moment, feeling like they were light  
years apart in distance. Mamoru could not believe his ears. She seemed  
so cold, almost heartless, but he still cared for her, and could not  
belay his concern, or curiosity. Nor did he wish to.  
  
'Minako, I think we are both very different now than we used to be. I  
wish still to be friends, but...'  
  
She did not look towards him. 'But...?'  
  
'Will you talk to me? I've missed you all so much, and never...' he  
stopped. He couldn't lie to her. He had given up, for mere minutes,  
but the truth hung there like a rotting corpse before him.  
  
'Never what?' she turned, and held her eyes to him steadily,  
expectantly.  
  
He frowned faintly.  
  
'When we found Akari and Yanei, and they showed me where you were,  
there was no doubt...'  
  
'What? Akari and Yanei? Who are they?' her folded arms came to ease  
aside her hips.  
  
'They...' he paused. 'They brought you here.'  
  
Her fists clenched instinctively, anger enfueled in such a way as she  
had never known, and a vivid snarl appeared upon her suddenly grim  
visage.  
  
"Mamoru?" a voice called from outside his room. Mamoru turned to face  
Demelza as she entered.  
  
"Good day Minako," she said, pausing in her step. Minako turned  
sharply to face her, startling the young healer.  
  
:Minako...; Mamoru pleaded in her mind.  
  
:What?:  
  
:I was scared, and lost too. I may not have been through the same as  
you, but you must trust me that I understand your feelings:  
  
:I... I guess:  
  
:I'm so glad you're okay; he stated warmly, long after needing to, or  
perhaps just at the right time. He then smiled. With a glance, he  
could see that his happiness was infectious, as Minako's face echoed  
his as she faced him for a moment.  
  
:Me too:  
  
Minako's expression of pleasure eased Demelza's discomfort. Her face  
remained serious, however.  
  
"Mamoru. Aye, this involves ye too, Minako-san - if ya don't mind me  
callin' y' that? - I mean to say we've found Makoto."  
  
They both held their breath during Demelza's pause.  
  
"She's fine, jus' like you said. Though after she talked to Conroy...  
she just up an' disappeared."  
  
Minako gasped sharply.  
  
"What? How?"  
  
"Dimensional teleport, though we canna fathom why," she muttered,  
knowing the uselessness of the information.  
  
Mamoru cursed under his breath.  
  
"That's it," Minako began with a snarl. "I can't stay here any longer.  
I'm going after her!"  
  
Mamoru grabbed her shoulder.  
  
"No. Demelza and I will."  
  
"You can't! You don't know what's out there!"  
  
"Neither do you. Demelza and I will be fine. As an Earth Child, I have  
a better chance."  
  
Demelza nodded her compliance, and consent.  
  
"Already we're ready t' send ye with Kirin to find 'er, if you're  
ready, Mamoru."  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"What am I going do? I can't stay here!" Minako whispered, looking  
forlorn. "I just can't! I..."  
  
"You won't be bored long lass. Randy's 'bout ready to send ye," she  
smirked.  
  
The short haired blond reached over and hugged her.  
  
"Thank you Demelza!"  
  
Demelza looked somewhat aghast, but pleased.  
  
"You're welcome, sister."  
  
Minako released her with a quizzical expression.  
  
"Sister? What?"  
  
:I feel vera close to ye; she replied in her mind. :Mamo-chan has much  
love for ye, an' I fear sharing his emotions for e'en such a short  
time 'as spurned m'heart to ye as a ray of light, lass:  
  
Minako smiled faintly, somehow beyond her puzzlement feeling open to  
her foriegn show of concern and support.  
  
:'Tis usually just a duty t'me, Minako-san. But I tell ye the very  
power of his feelin's nearly drowned me. To help you gives me  
something which I have never known: Family:  
  
Minako's face lit with consideration as she reached forward and  
grasped the young healer in a gracious hug.  
  
  
End of Book One. 


	22. A Power Armour, and Fade

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Book Two: Zenyro Tamashii (Rest, Good Soul)  
  
Chapter 21: A Power Armour, and Fade  
  
He had been looking for a decent piece of power armour for some time.  
  
How hard could it be?  
  
Maybe wandering through England was not the best way find such a  
thing. He supposed he had a better chance of going straight to the  
Coalition and finding a nice Grinning Demon Super-Sam to be vaporized  
by.  
  
:Elves are considered D-bees, aren't they?; he sighed. :Well, if  
nothing turns up soon, I think I'll just head on down to Free Quebec  
or something. Perhaps I can pick myself up a used Glitter Boy P.A.; he  
thought in resignation.  
  
Walking through the streets of New Camelot only made him aware of how  
minute the likelihood of him finding any kind of P.A. really was. The  
whole place reeked of Dryads, Nexus Knights, Millennium Druids and  
other arcanists. The magic itself did not bother him, since they were  
rather like him. It was the diminishing possibility of locating a  
power armour. Of course, not that he could actually afford to buy one  
outright. If he had to perform a task of some sort, like stealing  
something, or killing someone, that did not bother him in particular.  
All that mattered was the armour, whatever it might be.  
  
He paused before a shop that appeared to have no distinction in any  
quality but its name.  
  
'Randy's Rarities' announced itself loudly in bright green letters  
above the otherwise ordinary shop door. Grinning at the absolute  
corniness of the name, he wandered in. He discovered that the name,  
while strange, aptly described the shop. Many of the items he noticed,  
he had never before seen the like. Nothing was labeled. If you  
happened to find something you knew about, or could use, you were in  
luck, as there were no distinctions but mere physical appearance.  
Trying to sense the magic of them did not help either, as most of the  
items reeked of it. As with many of New Camelot's street side shops,  
this was more or less a mages' paradise, if you could afford it.  
  
Looking at the back end of the shop, he searched for an owner.  
  
:Who would leave such a place unattended?:  
  
As if on cue, a hefty looking tall black and gold haired man strode up  
to the smallish counter. The man leaned forward on the wooden surface  
with both open palms down.  
  
"Welcome to Randy's Rarities, my friend," he said. "What manner of  
search brings you here?" It seemed his cup runneth over with raw  
confidence.  
  
:Few dare call me friend; the dark-skinned elf thought. Something set  
him ill at ease about this cheery fellow.  
  
"Power Armour," he said, eyes narrowed. "You have any of those?"  
  
"Plenty of those," the fellow replied with a smile. "Tell me; have you  
a name? If you don't mind my asking."  
  
"Go ahead. It's Fade," he replied in a measured tone. "What about  
magic?"  
  
"This is certainly the best place for it," he grinned.  
  
"What, your shop?"  
  
"No, no, my friend. New Camelot. No finer place on Earth for magic."  
  
His reply of "on Earth" made Fade curious.  
  
"Magic," he started, "what have you got?"  
  
"Depends on the coin," the fellow replied easily. He idly wandered  
over to a shelf beside the counter and inspected the items upon it.  
  
"How about a Cloud of Smoke?"  
  
The man turned to him with a serious look.  
  
"That's not much of a spell."  
  
"Nor is it a very pretty coin," Fade replied.  
  
"Aye," the fellow agreed, "but fanciful enough. Is that your  
interest?" He stepped over to another shelf and fingered through a  
number of papers messily arranged.  
  
"Part of it," Fade said, approaching the counter.  
  
The man turned to him and handed him a small scroll.  
  
"Study this, and lend me your coin so I might decide just how pretty  
it is."  
  
"Half now," the elf said conditionally, "and the other half when I've  
learned the thing." He handed the taller fellow a pouch that filled a  
hand, no more.  
  
He pointed and smiled widely, "Use the back room there. If you have  
any troubles, I'll call my lady in to assist you."  
  
With a smirk, the elf took the scroll.  
  
"Do you really think I'll have 'troubles' with this?"  
  
"You never know," he said with a smirk as he pulled up a chair and sat  
down.  
  
---  
  
Roughly five hours later, the elf emerged from the back room, holding  
a rolled up scroll, and looking like he had just walked through a  
flaming forest. Glancing about, he could find no trace of the fellow  
who had given him the scroll. In a chair, however, was a very  
attractive human woman, who looked to be in her late twenties. She  
wore a long black cloak, light blue shirt, and a long loose dark blue  
skirt. She looked at Fade, and smiled, running a hand through her blue  
hair. After a moment, unbelieving, Fade noticed the silver streaks in  
it.  
  
"Hi," she said. "Done with the spell, I see."  
  
Fade merely nodded.  
  
"Well then," she started, as if expecting something.  
  
"I guess I'll see you about, eh?"  
  
"Not if you'd like to keep your head on your shoulders," she said  
nonchalantly. When the elf turned back to her, she was still smiling.  
  
"Oh, yeah," he laughed, "the other half of the payment." He handed her  
the pouch, and the scroll. "Can't blame me for trying, though, can  
you?"  
  
"Of course not." She did not seem at all displeased. "Keep the scroll.  
Part of the service."  
  
"Oh, that helps. Thanks," he half-smiled, accepting the worn looking  
handmade scroll. "Would you really have killed me?" He walked over to  
a Power Armour he had not noticed before. :Or at least have tried...:  
  
"Count on it."  
  
Fade was not sure whether to be impressed or frightened. Not many had  
that particular variety of raw confidence. He really didn't feel like  
testing the theory, besides. His interest was entirely in the armour  
in front of him. Silence mingled with his study of the simple looking  
exoskeleton. The head of it was shaped much like a melon, and lacked  
any real decoration, besides that of a thin bandana wrapped around the  
"forehead." The rest of the armour was just as plain, with the  
exception of jewel like crystals embedded in the outside of the lower  
arms, and the scabbard for a sword, which was empty.  
  
"Rather looks like a ninja," Fade stated, knowing he was being  
listened to. "Where's Randy?"  
  
She snickered softly.  
  
"He went... out. I'm sure he'll return soon." Fade heard the sound of  
her getting out of the chair. "Are you interested in this?" She came  
up beside him quietly.  
  
"Possibly. How much is it worth?"  
  
"What do you think?" she asked, and followed it with a smirk.  
  
"Roughly two point eight million. Maybe even three if you were to  
include a customized energy rifle of some kind."  
  
"Close. The weapon systems of this..."  
  
He cut her off; "Are comparable to a USA-G10?"  
  
She threw him a look.  
  
"This armour is meant to be the Glitter Boys equal in combat. Let's  
also just say that it isn't for the mystically inept."  
  
"Which would explain the lack of an ammo drum, among other things. Is  
there no power source?"  
  
"The power source is the pilot," she said, proceeding back to the  
counter. "So, you interested?"  
  
"Well," Faded started, "if you've got a task or two for me..."  
  
"I thought as much," she said, turning away. "As soon as Randy gets  
back, I'll let you know."  
  
"Katrin!" a male voice called weakly.  
  
The woman blanched.  
  
"My Gods," she murmured as she ran out of the side door opposite of  
the back room. Fade followed her, curiosity abreast. The man Fade had  
described as "Randy" stumbled away from a hovercraft, a blond haired  
young woman in his arms.  
  
"Are you hurt?" Katrin asked, taking the girl into her arms.  
  
"I'll live," he replied, looking as though he was in pain. "Go, lie  
her down. She's in rough shape. I'm lucky to have gotten her alive."  
  
Without hesitation, she left. A few moments later, a man roughly five  
feet tall ambled into through the door. He cast a glance at Fade, who  
appeared somewhat bemused. The man muttered something under his  
breath, grunted a brief "hello" to Fade, then followed the woman. With  
an arched eyebrow, Randy passed by him, holding his stomach, and  
headed into the adjacent room, the one in which the elf had learned  
the spell.  
  
:What? There's nothing beyond... or is there?; Fade thought.  
  
"Come come," Randy said, "if you're that curious, join me."  
  
Unable to belay his interest, he did so.  
  
The room he walked into was a veritable warehouse of miscellaneous  
armour, weapons, and other items. Many of which strongly smelled of  
magic. There were a number of items Fade recognized to be Coalition  
equipment, such as SAMAS rail guns, pieces of a disassembled SAMAS  
armour, Dead Boy body armour, stacks and piles of CE and standard  
E-clips, among a multitude of other things. The rest consisted of  
stuff he had never seen before.  
  
"I don't suppose you've got a Glitter Boy armour in this mess  
somewhere?" he asked, not seeming at all daunted by the collection.  
  
"Nope, we haven't been able to get a hold of one of those yet," the  
man replied, sitting forward in a small chair, drinking something.  
"See that SAM there? Useless, with the exception of the armoured  
plating, of course."  
  
"The old style Death's Head SAMAS, eh?" Fade grinned as he picked up a  
helmet that looked like a black skull. "Rare out here."  
  
"Not that the locals would notice," the man commented, taking another  
sip of his drink.  
  
The elf set the helmet aside.  
  
"I get the feeling your name isn't 'Randy'."  
  
"It is until I indicate otherwise," the fellow warned. "So I hear  
you're interested in the SC-Warrior out there."  
  
Fade had to wonder when Randy had learned that.  
  
"So that's what it's called. Nice piece of work. Yours?"  
  
"Hell no. I couldn't tell armour nor helmet of the PAs," he grinned.  
"I just sell them."  
  
"Tell me what it's like?"  
  
The fellow paused. "Can't tell you that. Don't use 'em either."  
  
Fade suspected there was little truth in that, but accepted it for the  
time being.  
  
"As for tasks... Well, my friend, I've got a few. Follow me," he  
gestured, standing. Fade followed Randy back through the shop and into  
the room Katrin had entered.  
  
"How is she?"  
  
The "she" Randy referenced to lay on a bed. Her blond hair was matted  
with the crimson stains of blood, and her face bore the healing  
putty-like substance of a MediKit. Fade noted with some interest that  
the uncouth man he had met earlier sat next to the girl looking quite  
concerned. As the elf watched, the man looked up at him, and the worry  
on his face changed to a self-protective scowl.  
  
"Watcha want elf," he growled faintly.  
  
"'Elf' doesn't see fit to reply to that," he commented, dry ire  
running in his voice.  
  
The fellow shifted uncomfortably, realizing he was not being the most  
affable of people.  
  
"Uh, well, I guess dat makes sense. I weren't so nice to ya. Sorry.  
I's jus' worried about Anim."  
  
Fade arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Friend?"  
  
"Client," he replied.  
  
"Ah."  
  
"Look Garen, she'll be fine, but she's not going anywhere until  
tomorrow at the earliest," the blue haired woman stated, as if making  
an executive decision. She faced Randy with a mildly sour expression  
on her face. "I don't know what they did, but I'm going to have get  
someone to patch up her prosthetics."  
  
Randy sighed heavily. "Alright. I'll get Carl and Hysian up here.  
Anything else?"  
  
"You might want to explain to Fade what this is about," she said with  
hands on hips. "If you're serious about sending him anywhere."  
  
"That's probably a good idea," he laughed, kissing her on the cheek.  
He turned to Fade. "C'mon you."  
  
"Just a sec," she interrupted. "Take Garen will you? I know he means  
well..."  
  
Randy nodded sympathetically.  
  
"A little long in the tongue."  
  
She nodded. Garen chuckled.  
  
"Maybe then we's kin get somethin' ta eat! I ain't had anythin' since  
dis creep," he gestured towards Randy, "showed up!" 


	23. A Little Hearsay, er... History

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 22: A Little Hearsay, er... History  
  
They sat in the main part of the shop, the door shut and a sign  
reading "Closed, Try Back Later" hung upon it. Fade took occasional  
sips from the drink he had been offered. Garen was very deeply  
involved in an apple pie Randy had unearthed from a storage freezer in  
the back.  
  
"She's in pretty rough shape," Fade commented. "Any chance you telling  
me who's after her?"  
  
"You're no stranger to the Coalition," Randy started.  
  
"Neither is she, I take it. Recent encounter?"  
  
"Not unless you consider an angry Juicer to be a loyal member of the  
Coalition."  
  
"Well, recently, believe it or not, after their uprising, the  
Coalition adopted some of the leftovers to beef up their armies.  
Better than standard troops and pretty cheap to make. A heckuva lot  
cheaper than a Grinning Demon. Power without the Price. Also  
considered to be pretty expendable."  
  
"And if they go AWOL?" Randy asked, sounding interested.  
  
Fade pointed to his head and said, "Little MDC bomb here."  
  
"So what's the difference between them and other Juicers?"  
  
"Cybernetics, and CS control, which doesn't amount to much."  
  
"That all depends on where you are."  
  
"So wha'?" Garen snapped curtly, sounding more irritated than angry.  
"We all knows th' Coals 'er freaks."  
  
Fade donned The Expression of Tolerance.  
  
"So what should I know about her?"  
  
"She's not human, for as much as she may look it. She's a supernatural  
being. Like yourself. Only her skin is tougher, like CS armour. Normal  
weapons will just glance off. It takes vibro and other energy weapons  
to hurt her."  
  
"You're telling me a Juicer nearly pried the prosthetics off her face?  
If she's as tough as that, I don't see how it's possible."  
  
"Think about it," Randy said. "Alone, you would be right. But he  
wasn't. He had three buddies helping him out. Cyber-snatchers looking  
for a quick hit. The three grab her while the fourth rips out the  
cybernetics."  
  
"So why didn't they succeed?"  
  
"She's a lot stronger than she looks."  
  
"How much stronger?"  
  
"Enough to kill a Juicer with a well aimed punch."  
  
Fade blanched.  
  
"You're kidding, right? I mean, Juicers are tough."  
  
"But they aren't invulnerable. They wear armour just like the rest of  
the CS fearing people. Why? Because a little ol' Wilks pistol can kill  
them. Anim there can pull punches that will kill an unarmored person."  
  
Fade fell silent, taking this into consideration.  
  
"She ain't never hurt no-one she cared about."  
  
"So, Garen? She left you to fry," Randy replied cleanly.  
  
"Yeah, but she don' care 'bout me."  
  
Randy sighed.  
  
"So why did you bother coming back for her?"  
  
"Hey, 'dis creep wanted me 't watch 'er, so I did d' best I could  
wit'out bein' seen," he shrugged, glancing at Randy momentarily. "I  
did it fer Usagi, 'causa her 'n' her bein' friends. I care 'bout her,  
not dis chicky."  
  
"Unfortunately for me, you took your sweet time. I agreed to let her  
meet Mamoru, nothing more. I wasn't thinking she'd scoot off and start  
window shopping. It's just not safe, even for someone as strong as she  
is."  
  
Garen scratched the back of his head.  
  
"So y' gonna argue wit'er nex' time?!" he growled, angered by his  
inability and the situation. He swore heavily. "Ain' much Snatcher  
comin' up here, an damned if I wus prepped up boy! I did da bes' I  
could!"  
  
"It is most greatly appreciated Garen," Randy nodded, looking only  
faintly irritated. "Though I don't know if it's that simple. Perhaps  
I'll have Carl check her for tracers when he repairs the damage  
they've done."  
  
"Tracers?" Fade blinked. "She marked or something?"  
  
"She shouldn't be. Hasn't made any local enemies, far as I know."  
  
"So its just everyday worries?" Fade began, skepticism riding high as  
he chanced another inquiry; "Why bring her here?"  
  
"She's much safer here than anywhere else."  
  
Not that Fade could vouch for the truth of that statement. He began to  
wonder why 'Randy' was interested in her.  
  
"So what about her face? She must have been very attractive before the  
metalworks."  
  
Garen threw him a glare.  
  
"Stupid elf. Jus' cause yer a freak from the Rifts don' mean y' can  
dis' the tech'."  
  
Randy gave Fade a wry look, ignoring Garen's fruitless ire.  
  
"What makes you think she's not attractive? You don't like  
prosthetics?" He grinned widely. "Let's just say she was wounded in an  
encounter with the CS."  
  
"I think I heard something about that."  
  
Randy arched an eyebrow at this, motioning for Garen to remain silent.  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Well, you hear things when you travel." He leaned forward. "Things  
like she wasn't alone when it happened."  
  
"Correct," Randy agreed, "she wasn't alone. As it happens, that's the  
first task I'm going send you on. To assist her in the rescue of her  
friend."  
  
"I see. Anything I should know about her friend? I suppose she's a  
similar type of being?"  
  
"Why don't you ask Garen here? He did, after all, save her life."  
  
Garen smiled mildly looking vaguely proud. Fade turned to the dwarf of  
a man, the Expression of Tolerance on his face.  
  
"Well," Garen started. "Dat wus da' Usagi chick I wus talkin' about.  
She got caught by th' leader o' da Bloods up in the Chi-Town 'burbs. I  
don't go gettin' in der way every time, 'cause they's got connections  
wit' da Blacks."  
  
"Blacks?"  
  
"Uh, th' Black Market. I figured maybe she was a Lofty strayin' from  
her turf, and maybe there was some creds in savin' her." He shrugged  
indifferently. "Turned out ta be worth't anyway. I shot the guy in th'  
head, killed th' freak. Dead like th' feelin's o' a Coals grunt. Th'  
rest o' dem took off like da scum dey is. Soon as I get up to her, she  
takes off - a'runnin' to Chi-Town.  
  
"Well, don't ask me why but I chased 'er. I weren't sure if she were a  
Lofty er not, but I kinda figgered followin' her would get me answers.  
She ran inta th' Nut-Set, an' I had ta kill another freak. Dis time  
tho, it were a Dog Boy. She ran off again afta dat." He shook his  
head. "I hadda run through th' sewer just ta keep up to dem. I came up  
a lil' late, but killed one, an' th' other one... he tackled me good.  
My pistol went flyin' an' I had trouble..."  
  
"Garen?"  
  
"Uh, yeah?" he paused with a dubious expression.  
  
"Is there a point to this?"  
  
"I dunno. Dere wus somethin' important..." he scratched his forehead  
for a moment. His eyes widened.  
  
"Oh yeah! She says somethin' and a buncha funky lights put this sailor  
outfit on her... She had a really, really short skirt, white bodysuit  
- and a tiara. It wus weird 'cause she threw it at me. It knocked da  
Dog Boy offa me and he freaked out. Afta' that we jus' got ta know  
each otha. I mean, I did some work t' get a fixer t' give 'er a new  
arm."  
  
"So now where is she?" Fade asked, patience hanging on a very thin  
thread.  
  
Garen glanced at Randy uncertainly, who nodded affirmatively.  
  
"Usagi was dere' when we got attacked by some Nut Set freaks. Anim got  
wounded, and Usagi... well..."  
  
"She's in the Coalition State of Lone Star," Randy supplied.  
  
"You know, you could have just said that," Fade sighed, propping his  
head on his hands. "So I guess you've got this one all figured out,  
right?"  
  
He nodded. "Pretty much."  
  
"So..." Fade began, waiting for Randy to elaborate.  
  
"If you're going to be any good with that PA, you're going to have to  
do a bit of training... it's going to take a some getting used to."  
  
Fade let the subject drop. Apparently he was not going to be getting  
any answers before "Randy" saw fit to supply them. On a point of  
Randy's wording, he arched an eyebrow.  
  
"You speak as if you know from experience."  
  
"Feh," the man snorted. "I told you once already I can't stand the  
things." He paused. "If you still want the armour, that is," he said,  
leaving the entire matter open.  
  
"Sure." The question of whether or not the job would be worth it  
crossed his mind, but he figured, how bad could it be?  
  
---  
  
Her lip curled unpleasantly as she paced and cursed.  
  
"It's up to you," Randy said plainly.  
  
"Bloody hell. You couldn't just have gotten a hold of me sooner?" she  
replied, the curl of her lip unfaded.  
  
"I'm sorry, the timing was completely beyond my control..."  
  
She frowned clearly, then abruptly turned to regard the dark faced  
elf.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"Fade," he bowed.  
  
"I'm Anim. I suppose you're going to help me rescue the other senshi."  
  
"Senshi?" Fade looked nonplused.  
  
She turned to Randy with a stern expression.  
  
"You haven't told him," her hands went to her hips. "I'm not  
surprised. It's just like you. What about Usagi?"  
  
Randy's pleasant smile disappeared.  
  
"Trust me, Dr. Silver's got her covered. He's got a hold on her, Ami,  
and Rei. With any luck, you'll get there just before they decide to  
dump them. You'll be meeting him in Texas. From there... you know the  
rest."  
  
She cursed.  
  
"Why don't we get a move on, then?" Fade suggested.  
  
Anim regarded the elf, and smiled faintly.  
  
"I guess I'll have to tell you on the way." Her gaze shifted to the  
short, uncouth fellow regarding her with a friendly eye. "And you,  
what happened? I thought you fried. You were kinda sketchy the first  
time 'round."  
  
Garen grinned.  
  
"Hey, watcha figger I got all dem imps fer? I bin doin' dis awhiles,  
an' ya get good 'r y' jus' get plain vaped. I ain' one'a dose."  
  
'Dandy,' she bit off, arching an eyebrow, but accepting his words in  
place of an explanation.  
  
"Garen, I can't have you accompanying them right yet," Randy declared.  
  
"What th' hell!" He bolted upright from his sitting position. "Ya  
can't jus' dump on me like dis! I saved her," he swore with admirable  
conviction, "life!"  
  
"You're going to have to trust me."  
  
"I ain't really gotta choice, 'ave I," he observed, expression sour.  
  
"As it happens, no."  
  
Garen crossed his arms over his chest and sulked.  
  
"If you don' rescue 'er I's gonna go in dere an nail 'em all!"  
  
Fade had to admire the gaul of the overspoken little twerp.  
  
---  
  
As it turned out, the arranged transport was a CS Death's Head  
Armoured Personnel Carrier. The man made behemoth towered over twenty  
high, and sixty feet long. The impressive alloy hide of the beast was  
shaped like a rather stubby twentieth century rocket. From its slender  
arrowhead aileron, to it's foreboding skull flat nose. A marvel and a  
melodramatic curse. Anim did not seem at all surprised by this. Fade,  
on the other hand, had to wonder.  
  
"Where can I get one?" he grinned.  
  
Randy replied a sly smile.  
  
"Don't think it was easy stealing one of these buggers," he commented.  
"We have provided this at some measure of risk to ourselves."  
  
"Not something to be taken lightly," Fade agreed.  
  
Randy nodded gravely. Anim had already climbed into the huge craft,  
and was busy inspecting the pilot's compartment. Fade stepped into the  
open hatch in the side, stopped, and turned about to regard Randy.  
  
"'Ourselves'?"  
  
"Until I say otherwise," he replied seriously.  
  
Fade gave him a mock salute, "Yes sir."  
  
He then disappeared into the ship. Randy watched as the ship lifted  
into the air under the power of the harrier-style jets, and flew off  
into the distance.  
  
Shaking his head, Randy returned to his shop.  
  
---  
  
"I don't suppose now is a good time to tell me about your 'senshi'  
friends?" Fade asked from the co-pilot's seat.  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Now is probably the best time," she half frowned thoughtfully. "It  
would help me to know what Randy's told you."  
  
"Absolutely nothing. I know you're about as tough as I am, and that's  
you're a D-Bee... but no more than that."  
  
"Well, back were I came from, an evil force attacked our world. Not  
much different than here, really, except that it was just a localized  
force. Luna, a cat, sought defenders and found us."  
  
The elf blinked.  
  
"Was the cat black by any chance? I suppose it talked too? I  
understand that happens a lot in human culture."  
  
"Um, yes and no," she looked at him, somewhat surprised. "Are you sure  
you didn't siphon it from his thoughts?"  
  
"Moi? That was a guess."  
  
She frowned.  
  
"Maybe I shouldn't even bother," she snarled, pretending to focus on  
flying. "Listen buster, I know how easy it is to tap other's minds.  
Especially for an elf like you."  
  
"Hey," Fade started, sounding none-too enthusiastic. "You don't have  
to tell me anything, alright?"  
  
"You asked," Anim replied, looking cross.  
  
Fade found that he lacked a response that would not draw her ire, so  
he said nothing. They flew in silence for a time, neither really  
expecting much from the other.  
  
"Maybe it would help we exchanged a little respect," she said calmly,  
almost reverently. "I realize I haven't been very kind."  
  
"No," he agreed slowly. "Let me apologize. I promise to keep my yap  
shut. All right?"  
  
She consented acceptance without gazing at him.  
  
"Well, that cat selected us... well, five young girls to protect our  
city. The leader of our group, 'Sailor Moon' was..."  
  
"That's you, I suppose?"  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"No, actually. That was Usagi."  
  
"I see. So what's this sailor thing? How does that fit into what makes  
a warrior? And young girls? Not exactly ripe pickings for battlefront  
material, unless they're elven."  
  
She gazed at him and rolled her eyes.  
  
"Beyond me. All I know is that we were Sailors. Seems silly now. But  
we were stronger than most other people, tougher, faster, and  
possessed some control over limited elemental powers. That, and our  
outfits distinguished us as the Bishoujo Sailor Senshi. That  
translates to 'Pretty Sailor Soldiers.'"  
  
"I suppose magic would do it. Oh, from what language?"  
  
"Japanese."  
  
"Okay. So who was invading earth, and what was stopping them from  
succeeding? Besides the five of you, I mean."  
  
"Lack of energy. In order to actually take over anything, they had to  
gather enough energy to release what they called the NegaForce." She  
laughed coldly. "They could have taken a lesson or two from the Rifts  
here."  
  
Fade had to agree.  
  
"So you managed to hold them off on your own?"  
  
"More or less," she admitted. "If I knew then what I know now, we'd  
have beat them already."  
  
"You mean you haven't defeated them?"  
  
"Well, we defeated Queen Beryl and her cronies. But that... really  
didn't matter."  
  
"Why? Sounds like you won. Sort of."  
  
"Exactly. You see, someone else came along and took her place. Even  
though we sacrificed everything... something else turned it all around  
on us."  
  
"Before you came here," he noted observantly.  
  
Silence manifested drifted in a very solid, tangible form between  
them. Fade gave it some thought, and came to the conclusion that there  
was no reason for her to lie to him. If she was acting, indeed, she  
was performing expertly, even to the point of guiding her very  
feelings without the slightest miscue. He glanced at her, and noted  
that she was wiping the right side of her still flesh tear laden face  
as she stared on through the HUD piloting window. Guilt roared through  
him. He'd been insensitive, and further, a jerk to a young woman who  
only wanted his help.  
  
"Anim? I'm sorry. Really," was all he could think to say. "I've been a  
bastard. I apologize."  
  
"Okay. Thank you," she whispered. "You're right."  
  
He blinked at her boldness. Generally one wasn't suppose to agree, but  
he supposed he deserved it. The fact that she was human did not derail  
the point of her sex. Women, elven or otherwise, deserved his respect  
and honour. This one without question, as she was asking nothing more.  
  
"We'll rescue your friends, whatever it takes," Fade vowed. "I mean  
it. I hate to see a pretty lady cry."  
  
"I thought you didn't like the prosthetics?" she smirked at him past  
dried tears.  
  
Fade simply looked confounded.  
  
:How the hell does Randy do it?: 


	24. The Rescue, and other Revelations

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 23: The Rescue, and other Revelations  
  
"I don't suppose it's too late to turn back now?" Fade asked nervously  
under his black helmet as they approached the gates of the Coalition  
State of Texas.  
  
"Not nervous, are we Fade? You don't have to say word one, I'm doing  
all the talking." She glanced at him, not yet wearing her helmet. "Got  
it?"  
  
"Yes. That's not what I'm worried about."  
  
"Shut up, we're almost there."  
  
"Yes Ma'am," Fade replied sarcastically.  
  
The radio hummed.  
  
"Identify yourself," it demanded.  
  
"This is the 'D-Bee Crusher' Cargo Transport, carrying supplies to the  
Lone Star Underground Facilities."  
  
A moment of considerate silence followed.  
  
"Come on Randy..." Anim whispered desperately.  
  
"Transmit your clearance code."  
  
Her fingers flew across a small numeric keypad, numbly hoping their  
order was correct. Her breath paused in the slender corridor of her  
throat. Fade glanced at Anim, and realized he was not breathing  
either. So far Randy had come through, if this did not pass...  
  
"Thank you. Proceed to Hangar 16," the voice confirmed.  
  
Anim started to navigate them through when the voice started over the  
radio again.  
  
"Wait."  
  
"What?" she replied, trying not to sound scared.  
  
"Don't suppose you're free after your shift?"  
  
Fade chuckled quietly.  
  
Anim's eyebrows knitted as an evil smirk passed over her face.  
  
"What's yer name there, honey?"  
  
"Kira. How about yours?"  
  
"They call me th' Freak Slayer, butcha kin call me Cale. I'm out at  
twelve-hundred. So how about it, meet you at Fusion Grill?"  
  
"Sure. Mine ends at eleven-hundred. Pick you up at thirteen-hundred?"  
  
"Sweet. See ya then."  
  
"I'll be looking forward to it," her sultry voice assured him.  
  
After turning off the radio, Anim and Fade spent a few minutes  
laughing at the irony of what had just occurred. Once calm, something  
started to nag at Fade.  
  
"Anim, you know where we're going?"  
  
"Yes," she hesitated. "At least I think I do."  
  
"Now I am getting nervous," Fade said.  
  
"Can't be that difficult."  
  
"No, of course not. It's only a great way to fool D-Bee spies like  
us."  
  
"We're not spies," she said, looking annoyed.  
  
"Aren't we? We're here to infiltrate enemy secrets. Isn't that what  
spies do?"  
  
"I..." her eyes narrowed, "damn you! My friends are not just enemy  
secrets."  
  
"Not to us they aren't, but in the eyes of the CS..."  
  
"Screw the CS!" she cursed furiously at Fade with a harsh glare.  
  
"You know what? That's damn fine with me, but I don't exactly want to  
get vaped here," Fade said. Then; "look out!"  
  
A smaller cargo ship, traveling at too high a velocity to avoid the  
path of the Death's Head transport, zipped out in front of them. Anim  
managed to turn the massive APC aside soon enough to evade disaster.  
  
The radio hummed again.  
  
"Hey there."  
  
"Uh, hi. Sorry about that," Fade said rather uneasily into the  
receiver.  
  
"No prob. No better way to get someone's attention than to try and hit  
them."  
  
Anim raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Hey there," she said, leaning forward to assure the clarity of her  
voice.  
  
"Hey there pretty lady."  
  
She smiled. Fade gazed at her.  
  
"What are you thinking?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Pretty Lady, hm? Answer me this..." she began, putting a finger to  
her lips. Fade answered her gesture with the appropriate silence.  
  
"And what might that be, my dear?"  
  
Fade might have found the exchange pleasant in any other situation  
other than the one they were currently in. As it was, the least of it  
was nervousness.  
  
"What do you know about the ninth level?" she seemingly ventured.  
  
"No more than any other CS fearing Dead Boy."  
  
"Eighth?"  
  
"Plenty of delicate subjects there, my sweet."  
  
"And Seventh...?"  
  
"Oh, Seventh Heaven you mean? Wouldn't that be the last time we..."  
  
'Hai?'  
  
'My dear, I believe it would be foolish to speak of such acts in the  
presence of others. However, if you will recall, we did spend the  
entire night with each other the first time,' he stated in fluent  
Japanese.  
  
With a faint blush, she smiled warmly, 'hmm, no doubt.' She reverted  
to American. "Randy came through again, Fade. This man's our contact."  
  
:Geez, Randy could have at least told me this is how we'd meet; the  
elf thought tiredly.  
  
:And leave you with the illusion of having control?; the man over the  
radio laughed in Fade's mind. :Don't be ridiculous. Haven't you  
realized by now that you're way in over your head?:  
  
:I suppose I should have; Fade relented.  
  
"Lead on," Anim said with good humour.  
  
"Of course."  
  
The crater of a vessel turned around beneath the hull of the  
considerably larger APC, and headed towards one of the smaller  
buildings in the State.  
  
"Hey... er, what's your name?"  
  
"Call me Drake."  
  
"Is that really your name?"  
  
"Is Fade yours?"  
  
Fade considered decking the man at the other end of the conversation,  
if he ever got the chance.  
  
"Nevermind," he snapped, storming away from the radio, and cursed  
heavily. "You can talk with this creep all you like, Anim, but no way  
am I going to."  
  
"Nice to meet you too," the voice laughed against a slight twitch of  
static.  
  
Anim pretended to take no notice of the elf's agitation.  
  
"So how have you been, Drake hon? How are the supplies?"  
  
"Not good. Unfortunately, they're planned to ship within the hour. We  
don't have much time."  
  
"Damnit."  
  
"Hey," his concerned tones offered, "if you want to get together after  
we deliver, I'm all yours..."  
  
Slowly her face warmed.  
  
"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." Her face was lit by a soft  
smile.  
  
"I care about you," the voice stated.  
  
"I know that."  
  
"Listen honey, would you resent an offer of something a little more  
involving than, well, you know..."  
  
She paused, stunned by the open nature of his statement. "I... Ca-  
um... Drake, I'm not... I mean I'd love to, but... We need to talk. I  
care about you a lot too, more than I've ever cared for anyone, but  
things are so... messed up right now."  
  
"The supplies?"  
  
"Yeah... we might want to go back..."  
  
"I realize that. I'd be willing to accompany you."  
  
Anim's face hardened.  
  
"How can you say that? You know so little about me, aside from what  
you've learned from your sources... and, um... me."  
  
"Hey, the way I figure it, anything will be worth the trouble just to  
be with you."  
  
"That's so corny..." she smiled warmly, loving the fact that he meant  
every syllable. "And so cool."  
  
"Hey, I try. So? Have I got your vote?"  
  
"I..."  
  
:It's simple Mina-san, yes or no:  
  
Anim gasped as his voice entered her mind.  
  
:Hai; she replied, feeling her eyes mist with emotion. :I don't know  
why, and I probably shouldn't do this... but I trust you:  
  
:I'm glad:  
  
There was a time of silence as they flew through Texas, bent on their  
destination. Anim was not sure what she would do when they rescued  
Usagi. What would she say?  
  
:She thinks I'm dead!; she thought. :She probably isn't even fighting  
them. Damnit!: She did not want to think of what the geneticists at  
Lone Star might have done to her.  
  
:You okay there sweets?:  
  
:Hm? Oh; she blinked, and brought her eyes back into focus. :I was...  
just thinking about Usagi...:  
  
:She's okay. Alive, I mean. What bothers me is the level of secrecy  
that they have surrounded her with. All I know is where she's penned  
up. Anything else, I couldn't tell you:  
  
:I know. You're doing the best you can:  
  
"Okay, land. I'll join you shortly."  
  
:Whoever is important to you gets the same rating in my book; Carl  
responded devoutly.  
  
"Just don't crash Mr. Drake," Fade interjected, offering sarcastic  
guidance.  
  
"I wouldn't worry about that," the voice replied coolly. "Welcome  
back."  
  
"Eh, well, thanks."  
  
"No prob. Now, here's the tough part."  
  
---  
  
"That's your plan?!" Fade gasped. "You're nuts!"  
  
"Not really," Carl started calmly. "I think it makes a great deal of  
sense. Anim is the only one they haven't caught yet."  
  
"And what about the fact that she's supposed to be dead?"  
  
The brown haired man paced.  
  
"They know how unpredictable the burbs and its residents can be. They  
won't even think twice about it, and we won't be around long enough  
for it to matter if they do."  
  
Fade nodded resolutely. Then set the doctor with a gaze of inspired  
query.  
  
"What about you taking off like you did? Won't they wonder?"  
  
"Sure, but I'm not worried about passing my story off to the  
Administrator. Dr. Bradford can take a leap into the Abyss as far as  
I'm concerned. We just want in, then out. Very simple."  
  
He nodded, satisfied.  
  
"So are you guys ready?" Anim stepped in, wearing a white untied  
straight-jacket, with collar and dark brown pants. "Carl I need you to  
do this up..."  
  
Carl regarded her with a smirk.  
  
"Well... if you say so Ma'am."  
  
Anim returned a "very funny wiseguy" expression.  
  
"Don't tell me you wouldn't be making wisecracks if I was bound too,  
eh?"  
  
She sighed in admonition.  
  
"C'mere," he gestured softly. Before tending to the arm straps, he  
reached over to a pile of black EVA armor, and hefted it to Fade, who  
looked terribly offended in reception.  
  
"What, the suit I've got isn't any good?"  
  
"Light armor won't last a second out there, not with all the heavy  
artillery. Besides, this was designed to mask your elven nature."  
  
:I'm not just an elf, smartass; he grumbled in thought alone. Or so he  
thought.  
  
:It hardly matters to me, I know what you are:  
  
Fade replied a suspicious look, but did not follow through with his  
thought, :You smell just as mystical as me, buddy:  
  
:Now is not the time for competition, Fade Ha'lyyn. You are being paid  
to assist me, not get on my bad side. And you had best not, dark elf,  
if you value your life; Carl replied in every confidence.  
  
Fade paused for a moment, as if weighing the pros and cons of  
confrontation at that point. Evidently, the unknowns outweighed any  
possible pros. The glare shared dissipated to a feigned indifference.  
  
"So, what, I guess I'm supposed to be the guard with the doctor and  
his freak?"  
  
"If you didn't reek of magic, yes. Here," in his hand he offered a  
small amulet. "Don't worry, I've used those things for years, and even  
the Psi-Hounds can't figure me out."  
  
"That makes two of us," he commented glibly, gazing at the crimson  
jewel for a moment before accepting it.  
  
"When do we leave?"  
  
"Shortly. Be ready."  
  
"Yeah," he sighed, turning to leave. "I guess."  
  
Anim faced Carl, and they were alone.  
  
"That arrogant little loudmouth is going to get us killed, Carl," Anim  
cursed. "Are you sure about this? I mean really?"  
  
Carl nodded.  
  
"Fade is a wild card I can handle. He wouldn't be alive right now if I  
wasn't certain of that. Listen, I'm not risking anything. I've been  
doing this for decades."  
  
Her eyes fell to the ground. She looked rather uncomfortable.  
  
"How are we going to do this anyway? How do you know Ami and Usagi  
aren't already dead?"  
  
"I don't. I've got to trust my people down there."  
  
With misty vision, Anim leaned against him.  
  
"Everything's so damned bleak Carl. I miss my friends, I miss my old  
life... I..." she began sobbing softly. He caressed her shoulders  
firmly.  
  
"Sssh, after this, you and I are going to have a long talk. There are  
some important things you need to know about me."  
  
She gazed up at him for a moment, and whispered between sobs; "You're  
a magical being."  
  
"Yes, but it's a little more dramatic than that. I'm a dragon."  
  
Anim did not move, nor did she tense.  
  
"I know."  
  
"You and I do need to talk!"  
  
The silent passage of several minutes saw Anim's tears dried. Carl  
gazed into her blue eyes.  
  
"You aren't going to break down on me in there, love...? If you are,  
you're better off waiting here for us."  
  
Her eyes narrowed.  
  
"Carl, if you really knew what I've been through to get to this point,  
you'd know I'd be damned if I didn't see this through. I'm not giving  
up on them. Not for Karl Prosek, not for any of them." The intensity  
in her voice, and the emotions fueling her, told Carl that, and more.  
  
She would sooner die than stop now.  
  
:It is your choice, but know that I will protect you. I swear it.:  
  
---  
  
"Damn this thing's awkward," Fade complained sourly. "The bloody  
helmet's pinching my ears."  
  
"They aren't meant for elves typically," Carl whispered. "You're a  
little tall for the modifications we made. Deal with it."  
  
"Thanks," Fade replied sarcastically with a huff.  
  
For all outward appearances, the upper layers of the stronghold known  
as Lone Star seemed calm. No expense was spared; the only grunts  
visible wore the new style light and medium Dead Boy armour. Grunts  
who sat in the cusps of the towers bore impressive looking rail guns,  
and even more impressive were the new Smiling Jack SAMAS PAs, and the  
DeathWings. Carl held a certain appreciation for the level of  
technology the CS was able to produce from such a small State. Even  
though the most productive part of it extended over the city block two  
hundred feet underground. The self-sufficiency was primarily a result  
of technology borne from the Golden Era of Man, before the Cataclysm  
of the Rifts.  
  
The nine levels were capable of housing several thousand people,  
complete with manufacturing plants for all necessities, from  
toiletries right down to the design and construction of old and new  
SAMAS armors, among other similar technology. With the inclusion of  
the Genetic Engineering Division, Lone Star represented the most  
incredible technological achievement of mankind. Also, one of the very  
few to survive the holocaust.  
  
As they approached the entry to the elevators to lower levels, they  
were set upon by a small group of Dead Boy troopers. The first of the  
five member squad spoke:  
  
"Greetings Dr. Silver. We've been asked by Dr. Bradford to see that  
you reach the GECA division without molestation." Not waiting for a  
response, the squad leader signaled for his grunts to assume a  
preplanned defensive position about the three.  
  
"Would you prefer I had one of my men handle the SDB?" the trooper  
asked.  
  
"Why?" Carl asked, curious at the young man's offer.  
  
"If I may say, sir, Private Jarre has some," he cleared his throat,  
"attitude problems. I would hardly consider him trustworthy."  
  
The unusually piquant "Private Jarre" huffed under his breath:  
"Figures."  
  
"May I ask your name?"  
  
"Yyone, sir."  
  
"Yyone. Thank you. You may be surprised to learn that Jarre was  
responsible for the capture of this young female creature."  
  
"Sir? He was stationed at... Chi-Town, correct?" A tone of doubt shone  
in his voice.  
  
"Yes. She was sent to me by Prosek himself. You understand."  
  
"Yes sir. Of course sir. Sorry sir," the trooper nodded curtly and  
fell silent. They entered the elevator, which began descending shortly  
after Carl punched in the appropriate security sequence.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Yes, Yyone?"  
  
"Why is the female so attractive if she is evil?"  
  
Anim tensed, snarling faintly. They both seemed to ignore her.  
  
"You mistake her. She is not evil by nature. She has no more wish to  
harm you than I. What threatens our race is the multitude of aliens  
like her. They would overwhelm us by sheer numbers if we did not act  
to deter them."  
  
"What about her beauty?"  
  
"Being alien does not always mean being unattractive, at least from  
the human perspective."  
  
"You seem to have a great understanding of these things, sir."  
  
"And you ask many questions. Why is that?"  
  
"I wish to serve the State to the best of my ability. May I speak  
freely?"  
  
"In front of your squad?"  
  
"They share a similar mindset, sir," he replied with a trace of  
hesitance.  
  
"Permission granted."  
  
"Frankly, I wouldn't ask these questions of the other doctors, sir.  
Certainly not Dr. Bradford."  
  
"And why not?"  
  
"He disturbs me."  
  
Carl smiled privately. "Continue."  
  
"Sir, it seems to me that you are the most open to other thoughts. Dr.  
Bradford's elite are insane, and so his he. I've taken very particular  
efforts to serve with you."  
  
"Yes, I've noted this, Yyone. Your squad has been quite attentive."  
  
"I've noticed you choose to assist the D-Bees at every chance, rather  
than conduct experiments."  
  
"What are you implying?" Carl turned to the trooper, face revealing  
nothing, yet.  
  
"Well, frankly, sir, we've heard rumors."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"That you are allied with an outside force that would be willing to  
take on those with," his voice betrayed his nervousness, "Unusual  
talents."  
  
"Well that's pretty specific."  
  
"Yes sir. Hopes are high."  
  
"Very well," he replied sternly. "May I offer a conjecture?"  
  
"Of course sir," the trooper answered.  
  
"That you weren't sent by Dr. Bradford as you said."  
  
"No sir."  
  
"Obviously you intended to approach me with the problems of your  
squad, and yourself," Carl said, drawing out the as yet unknown  
conclusion for the undeniably nervous young man.  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
Carl could feel with his mind that the young man was stretched to the  
point of breaking, and the only thing holding him together was his  
training. and feverent hope, the latter as mentioned.  
  
"May I ask you something else?"  
  
"Of course sir."  
  
"If I am to accept you, you must be willing to betray the Coalition  
completely. This includes your squad. Can you vouch with unwavering  
conviction that they are trustworthy?"  
  
The trooper glanced over at one of the grunts, who responded more than  
she should have by returning his gaze.  
  
"Well Dakota, are you in?"  
  
"Sir..." the young woman replied uncertainly. "This is one heckuva  
pinch, y'know!"  
  
"Agreed." Carl turned to her with an expression that could have  
cracked stone. "It's now or never, young one. I am in no position to  
argue, or fiddle with such issues. Anim," he gestured towards the  
bound woman, "is here to rescue her friends. The only reason she is  
restrained is because she chooses to be. It's really that simple."  
  
Her eyes fell upon Anim, who did not respond.  
  
"No kiddin'?"  
  
The bound blond simply nodded, looking somewhat uncomfortable.  
  
"Cool."  
  
"Call me Carl. The plan is this, get in, locate Cases 210, 211-A, B,  
and 118, then return to me. Can you do this?" He faced the leader of  
the squad once again.  
  
"Sir, you'd be surprised how many of the CSM are stationed at Lone  
Star," Yyone replied, sounding relieved.  
  
"Probably not. Yyone, may I ask your first name?"  
  
"Yes sir. It's Jake, sir," he replied. Carl was sure he was smiling  
behind that black and white helmet.  
  
"Get all of your," he quirked an eyebrow, "'CSM' together, tell them  
to meet just outside of cell 204. How many are there?"  
  
"Twenty-seven," he said, darkness marring his voice. "We lost three to  
the monsters of the Rifts."  
  
Carl nodded sympathetically.  
  
"Unfortunate. You are doing the right thing, Yyone."  
  
"I certainly hope so, sir."  
  
"We're almost there," Anim said, breaking her bonds easily. A series  
of gasps washed through the cargo elevator. Anim gazed around, looking  
half surprised.  
  
"If you're all superhuman, one of you must be super-strong," she  
suggested, eyebrows knitted as she slipped the heavy white jacket from  
her torso and arms.  
  
"Wait a sec," Jake blundered. "You knew? Geez, I guess I did make the  
right choice!"  
  
The young woman spoke up after receiving a nod from her superior.  
  
"That'd be me. I can shape change, a bit. I'm also the strongest of  
all of us."  
  
"What have you ascertained that to be?" Carl asked.  
  
"We, uh, kinda figure I'm just about as strong as the average  
Mega-Juicer. I'm definitely stronger than any of the scrapass  
Skelebots."  
  
Carl gazed at Jake.  
  
"I need to know what each of the members of your squad is capable of."  
  
He nodded deftly.  
  
"Greg - Hawkeye - here can teleport just about anywhere he's been, or  
can see - which is pretty damned far, and heals really quickly. Sarah  
- Hard Edge - can fly, can shoot energy bolts, and can turn her skin  
into stone. Callan, or Canary, can turn into just about any animal he  
wants, can stun people just by touching them, and seems to be able to  
control water. What Dakota - Darlin' - didn't mention was that she can  
dominate people with her looks; her beauty has a habit of getting her  
into trouble. Not that I blame her for not mentioning it."  
  
"Dakota, you and I will discuss ways of coping, alright?" Carl offered  
plainly.  
  
The young woman nodded.  
  
"Thank you sir."  
  
"The last of us, Jenny - she doesn't have a nickname - can turn into  
water and metal. She's the powerhouse of the group, really," he said,  
as if finished.  
  
"And what about you?" he asked pointedly.  
  
"Me? Well," he cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was  
a clear and unmistakable rendition of Carl's. "I imitate voices. If  
I've heard it, I can parrot it." His voice altered to its original  
state. "Not much else of what I can do is terribly useful. I can turn  
intangible, so that no one can touch me. Problem is, I can't touch  
anything else like that. It's handy for quick entry and exit. I can  
also turn my arms, or whatever else, into bladed or blunt weapons."  
  
"We call him Untouchable," Dakota said with a hidden smirk and a hint  
of laughter.  
  
"Wait," Jake said, indicating the requirement of silence with a raised  
hand. Moments passed as Jake seemed to listen to something. Finally,  
he looked at Carl.  
  
"It's too late. They've broken out. 210 is missing, and so is 211 A  
and B. We're a little late."  
  
"118?" Anim asked, eyes wide.  
  
"No word," Jake confirmed. "Must still be there."  
  
Carl's eyes narrowed in concentration.  
  
"Greg, can you get your group out of here?"  
  
The fellow nodded. "Yes sir. Where do I go?"  
  
Carl closed his eyes.  
  
:Here; he said in the young man's mind as an image followed. :If it  
takes more than one jump, then so be it. We can't risk blowing your  
cover now. Your friends would be in danger. We'll come back for them  
later if we can:  
  
:Right. You'll meet us there?:  
  
:Yes. Just focus on that image and go! Now!:  
  
Without further pause for thought, the five armoured men and women  
disappeared.  
  
"What now?" Fade asked, shedding his helmet, looking vaguely  
disoriented.  
  
"We make sure they aren't missed," he stated, pulling a small cube  
from his pocket. He wedged it against the control panel of the  
industrial elevator.  
  
"Cover me," he commanded, touching both their shoulders. Before they  
could think, the scene had changed. Mind you, not by a large degree.  
  
"Mina!" A familiar voice gasped in stark disbelief.  
  
"Usagi-chan!" she replied, running over to her. Usagi had been bound  
to a wall by wrists and ankles. Anim grabbed the bonds and pulled at  
them, feeling no give. Anim started as she felt a jolt, like a  
solitary quaking of earth. Gazing around a moment later indicated her  
reaction was quite uniform.  
  
"What the...?!" Usagi chirped, as if shocked awake by the blast.  
  
"Carl?" Anim pined nervously.  
  
"Later! There's no way you'll break her bonds," Carl decreed sharply.  
"Come here!" Fade stepped quickly up to them, at which point, they  
repeated their earlier performance.  
  
---  
  
"Where the hell are they!" Minako growled. "Who took them!?"  
  
Carl just shook his head. He tapped a button, and leaned backwards in  
the pilot's seat of the SC-APC Cruiser.  
  
"I haven't a solitary clue."  
  
"That makes three of us," Fade commented glibly. Minako threw a mock  
expression of amusement his way, and sat forward in the co-pilot's  
seat, mumbling angrily and uselessly to herself as frustration  
squirmed inside her.  
  
"How is your neck, Usagi? Feeling better?"  
  
She nodded demurely in his direction.  
  
"Yes, thank you. Mina, we'll find them, I'm sure of it." Usagi offered  
in an attempt to console her.  
  
"How the," she swore with a dark scowl, "hell do you know that,  
Usagi-chan! You don't know who took off with them!"  
  
"I think I do," she said hesitantly, taken aback.  
  
Carl turned abruptly to face her.  
  
"You had the same sense?"  
  
She nodded. "Hai. And I think - um, I dunno. I think I can follow it,  
too."  
  
He looked curious as he tapped a key and took hold of the control  
stick.  
  
"Why don't you just tell me when I'm getting warm, okay?"  
  
Usagi gazed around uncertainly. "Well, we're way cold now, but I don't  
know if..."  
  
"Just point."  
  
"Okay," and she did so.  
  
"Good enough for me," said he, leaning the APC into Usagi's  
indication.  
  
"Hey Usagi, we're going to be a while right?"  
  
Usagi merely shrugged in reply.  
  
"I don't know. They are pretty far away, though. It's kinda hard to  
tell."  
  
The elf sighed. "Lovely. Carl, you mind if I rest for a bit?"  
  
"I suppose not. You had best be ready to move, though. There's no  
telling what took the two senshi. If you've got any defensive magic,  
you should probably get it ready."  
  
"Will an Armour of Ithan do? Don't worry about me; I got skills," Fade  
remarked with a confident smirk. After a moment or two of silence, he  
wandered out of the room.  
  
Anim sat down in a corner and fell into her own considerations as  
Usagi continued to direct Carl in their bleak hopes. She was beginning  
to wonder if it was all worth it. What would they do even if they did  
all get back together? What could they do? They had all changed so  
much. With Makoto missing, maybe even in another dimension, the  
likelihood of the senshi getting back together seemed diminished. She  
knew she was falling in for it too, with Carl. With a dragon no less!  
Inconceivable! Anim could hardly argue, however, her emotions seemed  
to win over her common sense. Not that it surprised her. Ami and Rei,  
well, there was no way of learning that other than the heated pursuit  
they were currently engaged in. Besides them, Usagi was the only one  
left waiting.  
  
"Usagi?" Minako started, voice decidedly quiet.  
  
Usagi turned to her, looking once irritated and twice angry. Minako  
had a hard time not focusing on the hardened look in her friend's  
eyes.  
  
"It's about Mamoru... he made it... he's okay."  
  
As the words left her mouth, the anger in Usagi's face melted to a  
look of godsent relief. Minako could clearly see the tears behind her  
eyes.  
  
'Whereishewhathappenedtohimhashechangedohgodishehurtdoeshemissme...?'  
  
'Usagi calm down! Please...! I can't tell you anything if you won't  
calm down! Here,' she gestured towards the co-pilot's seat as she  
stood from it. 'Sit.'  
  
'Hai... Sorry, Mina-chan...' Usagi sighed as she seated herself,  
sounding shaken.  
  
'He's with the woman who saved him, they're going to -'  
  
'He's with who!?' Usagi snapped in high tones.  
'Hehasn'tforgottenmeorfalleninlovewithsomeoneelseohidon'  
tknowificouldlivewithouthimthatcreephowcouldhe...' she gasped, 'I...'  
  
'Usagi-chan! It's alright! He still loves you... Demelza is only the  
healer who took care of him. She's psychic, too, and nothing...  
besides everything, has changed.'  
  
Usagi wiped at her eyes.  
  
'Oh Mamoru, I miss you...' She blinked at a sudden realization. 'Why  
isn't he here?!'  
  
Mina took a moment to sit down before her reply.  
  
'The both of them have gone after Makoto.'  
  
'Mina-chan, what do you know? You haven't told me anything!' she  
pointed out, sounding angry.  
  
'Now isn't exactly the best time for it,' she said in uncertain tones.  
  
'Do you know of a better time? You can tell me now! Carl doesn't need  
my directions anymore!'  
  
Mina seemed somewhat startled for a moment before her eyebrows  
narrowed in irritation.  
  
'Usagi-chan! For heaven's sake calm down! You don't have to yell at  
me!'  
  
Usagi's expression darkened apologetically.  
  
'So sorry. I just...'  
  
Mina shook her head morosely. 'I don't know much. Makoto was taken by  
some kind of spell. We were told that it was teleportation of some  
kind, possibly dimensional.'  
  
'So Makoto and this healer went to find her.'  
  
'Hai!' she gasped, somewhat surprised by her friends' unusual  
comprehensive ability. 'Um, Luna and Artemis are fine, in love,  
married, and human, but otherwise okay.'  
  
The blond haired girl jumped to her feet suddenly, an expression of  
stark disbelief on her face.  
  
'Nani! Nani, nani!' she half yelled, mouth gaping.  
  
Mina found herself almost relieved to see some of the old, and  
seemingly lost Usagi resurfacing.  
  
'Hai!' she replied. 'I said human. She's beautiful, and so is  
Artemis...' A dreamy look wandered over her face as she completed the  
statement.  
  
Usagi arched an eyebrow.  
  
'Oh, really? But... how can she guide us like that... I mean..."  
  
Mina looked uncertain again.  
  
'I don't know. She said nothing has changed. I trust her... it's got  
to be easier than giving in...'  
  
Usagi plunked herself back down on her seat. 'Do you really believe  
that Mina-chan? What if it's not? What if we ever do go back home?  
With the rest gone, does Earth really stand a chance?'  
  
Mina leaned forward and pressed a hand to the young woman's shoulder.  
  
'I think we stand a better chance now than we did before. Even if the  
entire NegaForce has taken over Earth.'  
  
Usagi shook her head in denial.  
  
'What makes you say that? We don't even know anything. There's almost  
no hope!'  
  
'Usagi... we've survived the Splugorth! They couldn't keep us apart.  
We've got Carl, Randy, Katrin, and the rest on our side. I don't think  
there's no hope.'  
  
'Randy?'  
  
She nodded deftly, puzzled.  
  
'So?'  
  
"Carl, you work for Randy?!" Usagi snapped harshly. Mina withdrew her  
hand suddenly.  
  
"No. We are associates in business."  
  
"How can you stand to be near that evil creature!"  
  
"Usagi, he's just a human!" Mina explained, aghast at Usagi's  
reaction.  
  
"He's a demon, that's what he is! He's no human!" she snarled ferally.  
  
Mina stood up sharply.  
  
"What? What are hell are you talking about?!"  
  
:Usagi!; Carl snapped authoritatively in her mind. :That is enough!  
You will desist this instant, child!:  
  
The blond turned on her heel to face the challenge, the snarl unfaded.  
:How dare you...!:  
  
:Hold your temper! You are not among the enemy! We are your friends!:  
  
:Hai; she replied, calming slowly. Even as she sat she seemed angry,  
wary, as though any hand that touched her she would bite off.  
  
:Heya Bunny! Issat you?; a familiar sounding voice asked in Usagi's  
mind. She reeled as if struck. Minako caught her shoulder, steadying  
her.  
  
:Garen? I thought...:  
  
"Are you alright Usagi-chan?"  
  
She nodded distractedly.  
  
:Dat I wus dead? Well, ya see, I's a lil' more prepped 'n dat: The  
overbearing little man appeared next to Usagi, wide smile on his face.  
  
"I jus' don' like usin' m' powers is all, y'know."  
  
Usagi grabbed the fellow in a warm hug.  
  
"Gi, I missed you!" she laughed happily. Garen responded by replying  
her gratitude. Finally, she set him down.  
  
"Sorry I hadda freak ya out like dat Bunny," Garen started. Usagi  
shook her head, indicating it was an apology long past requirement.  
  
"Carl, that mountain, that should be it. There should be - I'm not  
sure, some kind of cave or something." She turned back to Garen. "Gi,  
I'm just happy you're still alive. Things actually seem to be turning  
out alright - I guess. Minako's back, Rei is alright, and once we pick  
up Ami... we can go after Makoto!" Her smile was pleasing, at least to  
Garen, who grinned.  
  
"Usagi? What cave? I don't see it..."  
  
Usagi sat bolt upright, and was at Carl's side in an instant. Minako  
made noises of puzzlement. Garen nodded agreement.  
  
"It's right there!" she pointed. "You can't see it?"  
  
"I bets it's a fake-out," Garen pointed out helpfully.  
  
Carl nodded. "I'm quite sure you're right. Usually I can see through  
such things, however... it seems not in this case."  
  
"I can feel an extremely powerful presence in there. Not like you,  
Carl, but... pretty damned close."  
  
Minako cast an inquisitive glance Usagi's way, not that she noticed.  
Somehow, this world, or maybe the Coalition, had turned her into a  
mystic tracker of some sort. Her harsh temper seemed a clear  
indication that she had been altered in some sense. The Coalition was  
capable of almost anything, but just to be sure...  
  
"Usagi, tell me, how magical am I?"  
  
Usagi sniffed, her eyes rolled in consideration before she spoke.  
  
"A lot more magical than Garen, and much less than Carl here. You have  
a spell on you, I can tell, too. Why?"  
  
Minako shrugged, satisfied.  
  
"Just curious."  
  
:Mina honey, what are you up to?; Carl's soft mind-voice prodded.  
  
:Just trying to figure out with the CS did to her. So far as I can  
tell, they've made her into a magical predator of some kind. Thing is,  
she doesn't realize it:  
  
:Perhaps it's better that way; Carl amended. :No, that's not all  
they've done. I can't really tell exactly what, but she's very  
powerful - probably even more so than I:  
  
:More powerful than a dragon? That's impossible!:  
  
:Point being? Isn't dimensional travel also impossible? Though, I will  
admit, it is rather intimidating.:  
  
:Intimidating? That the Coalition can create that kind of power? No  
doubt: "Hon, can you get this bugger into that cave?"  
  
Carl gazed at her with an arched eyebrow.  
  
"Not unless you want to kill Rei and Ami."  
  
Usagi suddenly looked startled. As the expression passed, another of  
feral anger wandered onto her face.  
  
"Let me out!"  
  
Minako gave her ample space as the former leader of the Bishojo Sailor  
Senshi darted towards the hatch of the vessel.  
  
"Carl!"  
  
"Why?" he asked. "What is it?"  
  
"Damn you," she snarled, as if he had just insulted her. "Let me out!"  
  
"Bunny! Hey! Watcha doin'?"  
  
:She's not thinking, love. Let her go:  
  
Carl gazed at Minako uncertainly.  
  
:So she can do what, die against the rock-face of the mountain?:  
  
Garen ran up to her and grabbed her overcoat, tugging insistently in  
an attempt to entreat her attention. Usagi merely ignored his  
concerned cries.  
  
Minako shook her head. :I have a feeling she knows what she's doing.  
Do it, okay?:  
  
:All right. If you're certain: He tapped a few buttons. Without so  
much as a "thank you," Usagi leapt out of the opening. Minako gasped,  
fearful despite her apparent faith.  
  
"Bunny!" Garen cried, sounding scared.  
  
"Oh by the Goddess, what have they done to you, Usagi...?" Minako  
whispered, her tones sorrowful.  
  
Usagi did not fall, but flew the distance to the cave, to most  
everyone's astonishment. Her spread eagle form gripped and held the  
nigh-intangible substance enough to suspend her in the midst of it.  
She seemed to know, instinctively, what to do when the need arose.  
Minako began to wonder if it was the alterations responsible for her  
shortened temper. What else about her had been changed? Only time  
would tell.  
  
"Come," Carl said. His words somehow distracted from the great  
leather-skinned wings which grew suddenly from his back. He took  
Minako and Garen's hand. Without warning, he let himself fall through  
the hatchway. Garen yelled in protest, and Minako merely wrapped her  
arms around him, clinging to him, loving the thrill of the fall.  
  
Fade ran out of his room just in time to note the leaping forms of the  
three. His voice trailed behind faintly as he attempted to gain Carl's  
attention.  
  
Carl cursed softly.  
  
:We well return. Guard the ship until we do:  
  
Fade swore. "This is just great."  
  
---  
  
It seemed they arrived too late to witness the interaction, though  
Usagi's feral expression had not faded, even when she had pinpointed  
the source of the power she seemed to be aware of. Fists clenched and  
glowing with energy, she seemed entirely prepared to do battle.  
Opposite her stood four figures, the first she instantly recognized as  
Rei - albeit with dramatically shorter hair. They were paired; the two  
each opposing and also clinging to each other. A tall, long and dark  
haired male held to Rei as only a lover would; one arm around her hip,  
while her head rested on his shoulder. She perceived the entire  
situation, though she had not formed a response to her missing  
friend's sudden appearance.  
  
The second pair seemed to be of mother and child. She could not relate  
either of the two to anyone she could recall. Oddly, the woman of long  
blue hair reminded her faintly of Ami, but the two looked so different  
that she found it hard to believe that such change was possible. The  
young girl knotted to her leg looked very similar to Sailor Venus; she  
had long blond hair which cascaded to her undefined waist. She also  
had calm blue eyes which radiated such familiar intensity, and  
occasionally, additional colours. Her eyes registered with such  
intelligence that Usagi paused, amazed, before speaking with Rei.  
  
"Who is he!" she growled.  
  
Rei gazed at her friend, taken aback by the differences wrought. She  
seemed so unkempt, so animalistic, as if merely reacting, thoughts not  
registering in her mind. Her senses could easily be lying to her, but  
Adolphus confirmed her. She was highly magical now. She was  
supernatural, not evil, quite, but sharply powerful.  
  
:She has power enough to annihilate us; he thought, :given the chance:  
  
:She wouldn't!; Rei retorted, trying desperately to deny the truth she  
felt in his mind.  
  
:Thou can know that not, my beloved. The Coalition has affected many  
changes upon her. I do find it amazing thy trust of her:  
  
:We might have fought a lot - okay, like, all the time -:  
  
Adolphus chuckled faintly, squeezing her hand.  
  
:Um... but we were really good friends. I don't believe she'd hurt us!  
Maybe if I can just get through to her:  
  
:Aye, if thou'rt certain, my sweet. Know ye well of my trust in thee:  
  
:Yes. Thank ye, uh... you...; she smiled faintly. :I don't know... but  
what else can I do?:  
  
"Usagi. He's my soulmate," Rei confessed. Usagi's eyes narrowed as if  
trying to focus on something. After a few moments, she calmed. She  
turned to the child, who snarled at Usagi when she approached. Rei  
stared aghast after her.  
  
:Adolphus, what did she do? I felt something...; she queried, running  
fingers through hair which still felt oddly short.  
  
:She scanned us. How could she tell, except by reading our astral  
bodies, knoweth I not. See ye the reaches of her power? Such as they  
be she cannot know them! Mayhap they exist not!:  
  
Sorrow and soul-flickering concern followed Usagi by Rei's continued  
gaze upon her.  
  
"Ami?" Usagi ventured uncertainly, seeming quite on her guard in spite  
of her defensive posture.  
  
"Who? Shyanne, wait... calm down honey!"  
  
"I don't like her," the child remarked.  
  
"You don't have to, demon," Usagi snapped coldly. Sarah's eyes  
narrowed as the woman neared. She pushed Shyanne behind her, raising  
her hand from which three slim blades slid easily forth.  
  
"Stay back! Don't ya dare touch m' girl!" Sarah stated angrily. "I  
don't know ya are, but Ami's dead!"  
  
Rei gasped.  
  
"Sarah! No! Don't say that! Usagi...! She doesn't know what she's  
saying!"  
  
"No!" Usagi clenched her fists and jabbed at Sarah as if punching her.  
A burst of light shattered over Sarah, knocking her away from the  
girl, who cried out, "Mom!" The woman lay motionless on the ground.  
Shyanne faced Usagi, looking near tears.  
  
"Stop it!"  
  
"Usagi! She's just a child!" Rei screamed, hoping to fetch her ear.  
  
"Nay, I cannot let this occur." Adolphus stepped in front of the  
enraged Usagi. He grabbed her shoulder.  
  
"Usagi, thou canst do this. The girl means ye no harm. Demon she be,  
but mayhap not so evil as doth imply?"  
  
She glared at him, then shrugged off his hand.  
  
"First, mage, you don't know what the hell you're talking about.  
Second, you just got a freebie there. Any part of you that touches me  
next you aren't getting back. Got it?"  
  
Rei stood, again shocked.  
  
:Rei, stand ye back. I fear thy friend be affected by a forgien  
animosity. One not her own; Apolphus warned.  
  
:What? Why? What're you going to do?:  
  
:Nothing, yet I dare not leave us unprotected, lest her actions...; he  
paused. :I fear we are outmatched, my phoenix:  
  
"I wouldn't," Usagi snarled, "dare. Nothing you can do will keep you  
safe. So long as you let me alone, I won't bother you. Got it?"  
  
"Usagi!"  
  
For a moment, the torn, former leader of the Sailor Senshi gazed at  
her friend, confusion areign aside anxiety and the powerful  
artificially instilled instincts that drove her onward.  
  
"I'm sorry Rei..." she muttered. "I don't mean to do that... but your  
soulmate, he's really getting in my face."  
  
Rei blinked at her, shoving the urge to snap something back for fear  
of setting her off again. Her whole manner was odd, confused, and very  
unlike the girl she had known before their seperation. Wisely, she  
reached for Adolphus, and was quiet.  
  
"What do you want?" she inquired delicately, hoping very much to  
diffuse the situation.  
  
Usagi said nothing, turning to face the crying girl, who stared at her  
with mixed anger and horror.  
  
"Why'd you hurt my Mom?!" Shyanne cried. "She didn't hurt you!"  
  
"Usagi!!" Carl cried. "Do not harm the child! She means Ami no ill  
will!"  
  
Usagi whipped around to face the source of the voice, hard resentment  
on her face.  
  
Suddenly Shyanne snarled, though it was clear she did not understand  
why she felt such fear as her face flicked between the conflicting  
emotions of an eight year old girl and a young female demon. Usagi's  
eyes and heart fell at Carl's identification of her former friend. Her  
instinct had proved correct. How was it possible? What had they done  
to her?  
  
"What are you!" Shyanne snapped at Carl, who strode with determined  
ease.  
  
"I mean you no harm, young one. I only wish is to help your mother,"  
he replied gently.  
  
The corner of her lip curled upward unpleasantly as she backed towards  
her surrogate mother.  
  
"No. Stay away. I won't let you hurt her too!"  
  
'You know of me, and my world, don't you, little one,' Carl offered  
softly in a foreign, guttural tongue. Mina's uncertain gaze shifted  
quickly between her love and the doll-like child.  
  
'Yes, Silver One,' she replied calmly, meeting the level of his word  
in tongue.  
  
'What happened?'  
  
She growled faintly.  
  
'She hit her with something...' Her face worked visibly in  
consideration. 'Why do you care, dragon? I am nothing in your eyes. I  
can see it.'  
  
He shook his head.  
  
'I serve the Lord of your kind. I will not harm you.'  
  
'What Lord have I of whom you might know? I don't believe you.'  
  
'Believe only what you feel, for I offer only respite, young one.'  
  
'You speak strange words, dragon. Your fire-breath has made you drunk  
perhaps?'  
  
"Carl, this girl... no child talks like that!" Mina stated, a crease  
in her brow. "What is she?"  
  
"She's a demon," Usagi supplied in an accusatory tone.  
  
"I am the daughter of Sarah Night, woman," she snarled faintly to  
Mina. "Be careful where you wag your tongue, lest I remove it."  
  
Carl snorted loudly.  
  
'How dare you speak in that manner!'  
  
'I will speak to her as I wish. She is of no importance.'  
  
'To me she is! Retract your statement, or...'  
  
'Or what Silver Tail? You will crush me in your talon? I think not.'  
Like the flicker of a badly edited film, the child disappeared. A  
moment later, so did Sarah.  
  
"Ami!" Rei cried.  
  
"Love, 'tis of no use. They have gone places we cannot follow,"  
Adolphus offered.  
  
"You're wrong," Usagi stated. "I can follow them. I followed you."  
  
"Aye, mayhap. Thou mayest try. Eh? I suspect within your words the  
wavering flag of truce?"  
  
Carl stepped forward. "That is something which warrants discussion  
later, perhaps? We cannot afford to waste time now. The CSM await us."  
  
"The what?" Rei asked.  
  
"Exactly," Mina chimed in with a smirk. "Let's go babe."  
  
Carl nodded. With a bowed head came another ill cut clip of film. 


	25. Some Cameos, Others New

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 24: Some Cameos, Others New  
  
:How long has it been? Six years, tomorrow; she thought. :But so much  
had happened since then!:  
  
Was she really edging up the drying husk of forty? It wasn't that bad,  
was it? Even at this age she looked as attractive as she had when she  
was at her peak. Of course, it was easy to say that based on the  
opinion of her husband. He was always telling her how beautiful she  
was, even when she did not agree. But that is the way of men, is it  
not? A small white lie to ease the society-based pain of the forming  
forks in the corners of her eyes, the wrinkles of flesh on her  
formerly firm skin?  
  
Yet she knew very well that he meant every glowing word. That was one  
of the reasons why, indeed, she had accepted his proposal of marriage.  
  
'No, Mai,' he had said. 'I'm only a few years older... age affects me  
like it does you.'  
  
She had sighed, flipping her head, and subsequent lengths of brown  
hair back, still thoroughly wet. Her brown eyes had settled on him,  
attempting to perceive, as she had not thought to until then, what  
exactly about him had changed.  
  
'You're more handsome with your age. More...' she sought the words,  
face visibly working. 'Well, handsome... and respectable.'  
  
She had completed the statement with a cute upward flip of tone which  
Andy so enjoyed. Andy had just nodded with a warm smile, before he had  
hopped into bed. They had made love before he fell asleep and she had  
lain half covered in blanket and thoughts of the past.  
  
Thoughts of the distant past. They seemed to permeate her life, but  
then, what else was there? Few regrets, the least of which were the  
twins. Kai seemed so happy, and Tenma, somehow emotionally - well -  
removed. How could she expect a teenage girl to deal with also being a  
part-time teenage guy? Nakio had been very good about helping her to  
discover the - woman, as it was revealed - who had issued the curse  
upon Tenma. Apparently it had been done while Mai had been pregnant  
with her.  
  
Anger and fear no longer surfaced in Mai, yet Tenma seemed so familiar  
with them. When she had reached a sufficient age to really comprehend  
her nature, or rather, the horror and curiosity that her  
transformation - ability, talent? - sparked within others (and  
herself), she had adopted the aforementioned feelings and drawn nigh  
totally into their expulsion through the Martial Arts.  
  
Being a martial artist of considerable prowess in reputation as much  
as ability, Mai understood the faucets - the escapes - that training  
could offer. In many ways, it was a healthy way in which to focus  
emotional turmoil, but in doing so, it was possible to become lost, or  
engulfed entirely. Through the years Tenma had become a fiercely  
powerful warrior, and - like her uncle, Terry Bogard, she admitted -  
had declared herself a Lone Wolf. She was only sixteen, and yet it was  
clear she considered herself ne plus ultra. To a point, it was  
reasonable, for who could relate to her? No one, not even her own  
mother.  
  
'Mama?'  
  
Blinking slowly and swiveling the recliner on the Lazy-Suzan style  
base, Mai faced the daughter upon which her thoughts dwelled so  
frequently. It was the next day, she realized dully, and dinner was  
simmering in the kitchen. Had the whole of it passed her on such brief  
terms? Shaking the thought and attempting to seek light past the all  
consuming considerations of recent history, she gazed upon the young  
woman.  
  
'Yes sweetie?' she half crooned subconsciously.  
  
The demure fear in the young woman's eyes betrayed her usual fire-eyed  
demeanor.  
  
'Mama... I need to talk to you.'  
  
Uncertain, Mai sat forward, reading tears and pain in her expression.  
Offering silence and open arms, Mai accepted Tenma's abrupt sobbing,  
trembling and confused mutters.  
  
'It's okay,' she whispered, hoping to heaven that she could convince  
herself of that. Everything inside her spoke ill, denying her the  
security of certainty. Even as her daughter shuddered and rendered  
emotions from her soul, Mai remembered the past.  
  
---  
  
'Kai! Where are you?' Her brown eyes narrowed uncertainly, fearfully.  
'Stop it! You're scaring me!'  
  
Finding no answer, she turned and fled towards her sensei, her Elder,  
her Mother.  
  
'Tenma Misty Bogard,' Mai had chided. 'Your sister isn't far. Remember  
what I said: It's...'  
  
'...all part of the training...' the girl finished for her. 'I know  
Mama,' she sighed as she shifted to face the open field beyond the  
walls of their home. Her eyes squinted in concentration as a gentle  
wind shifted the short and stylish locks of her ruby red hair.  
  
The young girl raised her hands and arms in the ingrained martial form  
of defense as she strode with determined caution. Mai had been very  
impressed with the progress of the twins, especially Tenma, who seemed  
so innately skilled. Mai was hoping to press them into tournament  
fighting, noting even Kai was at least as good as she was at that age.  
Not even eleven yet, and so strong, so graceful.  
  
Mai had hoped that neither of them would be quite so burdened by her  
breast size. Rather self-consciously, she had wrapped her arms around  
her stomach, sitting with her knees drawn to her chest.  
  
:Gawd; she had thought, :which Goddess cursed me with these things?:  
  
They were nothing but a hassle, or distraction - at best - in battle.  
She thought now that her ribbon of an outfit - a thin gi covering the  
barest of essentials by only more than a few inches wideness - had  
been youthful foolishness, and pride. Pride? Maybe not. Maybe "wanton"  
was a better word. No, she never accepted advances of the sort, at  
least not from those she was not interested in. Andy being the crux of  
her lusts (and following love - or was it the reverse?), she recalled  
with a smile.  
  
Of course, Andy had refused the barest hint of such advances for many  
years before they had married - at which point he had shown that he  
was nowhere near as skillful in bed as in fighting. On the other hand,  
she had had as little experience regarding sex as he. They had  
traveled that path of discovery together. If not a sometimes stumbling  
pattern of travel, it always turned out to be a pleasurable one. A  
hushed rustling of movement had brought her eyes from recollection, to  
her daughters.  
  
'Ki-ha!' Kai snapped, causing Tenma to duck sharply. 'I almost got you  
that time! You shouldn't spend so much time thinking!'  
  
'Not like you,' Tenma retorted as she turned, adding a quickly and  
aptly guided fist to the remark, which was similarly dodged.  
  
'That's not fair!' Kai replied, missing her sister with a beautiful  
crescent kick.  
  
Tenma giggled, leaping at her and knocking her to the ground.  
  
'Gotcha, Leaky!' she cried triumphantly, sitting on the shoulder  
length brunette's stomach. With a gasp, the waylaid altered her  
position dramatically by wrapping her legs around her sister's neck  
and dropping her to the ground beside her. "Leaky" a strictly childish  
parody of Kai's middle name: Waters.  
  
'Oh yeah, Little Miss Fogs?' she laughed. Tenma, on the other hand,  
had not. Kai smirked, jumping to her feet and letting herself relax,  
preparing for a more serious match. Her sister was a joker by nature,  
but did not enjoy losing. Kai had been smart enough to use that to get  
her to be more serious about training. When it came down to it, Mai  
recognized Tenma's apparent disregard for the intensities involved in  
marital training. Despite this, her sheer skill in battle exceeded her  
sister's by a fair degree. So by that mark, they were evenly matched.  
  
'Kai! Tenma! Come home!' Mai had yelled in an only mildly  
authoritative summons, knowing they would obey. Calling names and  
chasing each other to the doorstep, they removed their shoes at the  
door before lowering the tone to a hushed match of vocal hand-to-hand.  
  
'I want you to get cleaned up for supper,' she had stated in a timbre  
more pleasant and gentle, from the small kitchen. 'We're having  
company. The new sensei will be here soon.'  
  
'It'll be a guy!' Kai snapped playfully, disappearing into the  
bathroom.  
  
Tenma's gentle voice retorted: 'No it won't! It'll be a girl!'  
  
'Will not!'  
  
'Will too!'  
  
'Won't!'  
  
'Will!'  
  
This bout continued until Tenma had cried out, and Kai had come  
running, laughing loudly. Tenma followed, chasing her, childish  
frustration distorting her otherwise cute face.  
  
'Tenma! Kai! Calm down!' Mai had called impatiently, if not tiredly.  
Tenma had run up to her mother and whined:  
  
'But Kai got cold water on me!'  
  
Her eyes widened, more irritated than shocked. She turned to Kai,  
knowing she would be standing underneath the range of her gaze.  
  
'You know that was wrong! Apologize to her, then go and get some warm  
water.'  
  
'But Mama...'  
  
'Sush!'  
  
'So sorry, Tenma,' she offered, bowing curtly before she hurried to  
retrieve the requested item, not wishing to entice punishment any  
further.  
  
'Are you alright honey?' she had asked, and hand on her head.  
  
'I don't like it Mama,' he had replied, sticking out her tongue in  
distaste. 'It feels funny.'  
  
Again, she had not known what to say other than, It's Alright Honey,  
It'll All Be Okay.  
  
:Cursed woman; she had thought.  
  
Some luke warm water and the promise of dinner had settled the twins  
for a time. Didn't it go something like; Dinner is when kids sit down  
to continue eating?  
  
---  
  
'I'm pregnant,' were the words, breaking the vision, shattering the  
thin sheen of memory. A shrill spark of rage shot through Mai, and she  
clenched at Tenma until she whimpered slightly.  
  
'Mama... that hurts!' Recalling herself, Mai unclenched the figurative  
talons and retracted her nails. Red faced and terrified, Tenma sniffed  
and blinked, saying little.  
  
'What am I going to do?'  
  
Mai got to her feet, standing, walking, exercising her body in a weak  
effort to calm the torrent of anger flared within.  
  
'Who's the father?' she asked like an unconscious parry.  
  
'I don't know!'  
  
Another shard spiked.  
  
'What!?' she snapped harshly.  
  
Mai's fury passed as the tale flowed, along with Tenma's tears.  
Cursing herself and her "feminine" weakness, she reflected on changing  
to her male self, staying that way for days, and only now, two weeks  
later, turning back to herself. She had been mugged and raped at  
gunpoint. She'd been shot. Where? In the arm. It was only a flesh  
wound! No, he hadn't beaten her. She said she had been tested. No! She  
hadn't tested HIV positive. An abortion...?  
  
'Mama... I don't... I... I can't! It's not the baby's fault!'  
  
Mai crossed over to the couch, taking her daughter's hands, and said:  
'That's okay. I'm here. We're here.'  
  
Tenma's eyes fell.  
  
'What about Papa?'  
  
'We'll talk to him. Together.'  
  
'But what if he says...?'  
  
'Papa loves you Tenma... We both love you. Always. We'll work it out.'  
  
'I know... I just... I shouldn't have been walking around like this,'  
she glanced at herself, indicating her sexual state. 'If I'd been male  
he'd...' her voice dropped.  
  
'No!' Mai searched her face, finding no end of sentence. Her  
expression set sternly. 'He could have killed you. I would have lost  
you. I couldn't bear that!'  
  
Tenma gazed at her, hearing the words, fearing them, feeling for her  
mother, knowing it was a return of favor.  
  
'Arigato gozeimashita,' she said bluntly, softly. 'That was a stupid  
thing to say.'  
  
'No, no, Misty darling.' Open arms to receive the deathly terrified  
girl.  
  
---  
  
Rest came only several hours beyond midnight. Rest, lying down of the  
body, without calming the mind. The muscles in her neck felt like a  
firm crosstitch. Mai feared this more than death itself, this  
unrelenting pain in her daughter. She could not let herself act upon  
the wills which her mind fed upon. To kill the man would be simple, if  
only to find him. She swore vigorously.  
  
She let herself slip into a trance of fantasies, wondering just how  
painful she could make his death, knowing she could never act on them.  
Perhaps Andy...? No. He had given up fighting many years ago. Nakio  
would understand. Tomorrow they would talk. Nakio understood such  
pains. As her body sought sleep, her mind pursued memories...  
  
She had promised the sensei supper upon arrival, and of course, she  
would not be late. Mai had seleected this woman primarily based on her  
excellent training and reputation. Though, something had nagged at  
her. Was it the fact of Andy's absence? She doubted it. He spent a  
great deal of time traveling, though only for a pair of days at  
length, usually.  
  
Watching Kai apologize to Tenma, and then giggle and snicker at their  
childish games, it had come to her that it could not have been that.  
Andy had only left yesterday, and was due back the following night.  
Even now she wished he could stop traveling, so they could spend less  
periodically interrupted time together. But he was paying the  
mortgage, so Mai could run her martial arts school.  
  
They had needed the time for the school to gain recognition, and  
bountiful enough students through which they could establish the  
school reputation. Even with Kai and Tenma as examples of their  
ability to teach...  
  
There had been a faint knock at the heavy oak door.  
  
'Hai!' she had called. Behind the entrance dwelled a woman adorned in  
a simple robe of khaki green, a scabbard at her waist, and a hood over  
her head.  
  
'Greetings Mai-san,' said a dulcet female voice in fragrant Japanese.  
'I trust I am timely?'  
  
Somewhat flustered, she had replied only a simple nod.  
  
'Yes. May I ask your name?'  
  
'Kani Nakio,' was the reply, easy, and of a carefully gauged tone. Mai  
had nodded simply with a smile.  
  
'Come in. Make yourself at home.'  
  
The woman had done so, and with her entrance came the removal of her  
hood. Beneath the thick cloth were gentle brown eyes, lengthy brunette  
hair hanging loosely about her face, and the war worn countenance of  
an experienced fighter. Mai could not miss the tell-tale weariness and  
wariness in those soft eyes, the deliberate stride on the edge of  
fleeing. Like Mai, she had obviously seen much violence, and it was  
clear that she had yet to distance herself from the source.  
  
:That's fine, as long as the doesn't get my twins involved in her  
battle; Mai had decided, setting her mind to be watchful of this  
creature. As if sensing the gaze of the parent, Nakio had faced her,  
scrutiny also evident in her features. Saying nothing, the agreement  
had been set.  
  
'That smells nice,' Nakio noted with a hint of a smile.  
  
'Thank you Nakio-san,' Mai replied curtly. 'Sit down, relax. There is  
no hurry here. You are safe.'  
  
The woman merely bowed, saying nothing and offering agreement nor  
denial, and then proceeded into the livingroom, introducing herself to  
Kai and Tenma, who smiled cheerfully at her sister. Kai frowned  
slightly, then grinned up at Nakio, who bowed, and sat down between  
them. A time of somewhat less than idle conversation had passed: Both  
girls boasting their abilities, ages (measured in the distance of  
minutes difference in birth), and talents. They were gently hushed by  
their new mentor's words:  
  
'It is good to know what you can do, but better still to be aware of  
what you cannot.'  
  
Kai mystified at the statement, while Tenma's thin brows had furrowed  
in consideration. She observed to her sister:  
  
'Agragance isn't good. Makes you blind.'  
  
Nakio smiled, pleasently amused. 'Iye Tenma. Arrogance.'  
  
'Um, hai. Arrogance. Thank you Nakio-san.'  
  
'Where's Mama?' Kai had asked, drawing the subject away from that  
which she as yet failed to comprehend. A plate was set softly in front  
her in place of an answer. The upturned corners of her lips indicated  
her pleasure as she had begun to eat.  
  
Mai set out the proceeding plates, and then sat down herself with all  
the grace of a sure footed doe. During the course of dinner, she had  
sought conversation in brevity, hoping it would drain the unease and  
tension she seemed to be feeling so readily. Nakio mentioned only the  
pleasantry of the weather, the kindliness of the people, and the  
exceedingly excellent and aptly prepared food.  
  
She had related that she was ill-prepared to talk at length, as her  
trip had been arduous, and that she was fatigued. Of course, Mai  
relayed to her that she may excuse herself at the earliest convenience  
to her awaiting bedchambers, and said that Tenma would show her to the  
room. Eagerly, Tenma had nodded, wiping at her face as to not spill  
her food from her mouth, while she was chided softly. Dinner had  
proceeded in silence beyond that point, and Nakio had accepted Mai's  
Gracious Offer with a simple bow of gratitude.  
  
Mai had been convinced somehow that Nakio was hiding something. What?  
She had treated the kids with utmost respect, and seemed honest  
enough. She knew, of course, that these outward appearances meant as  
much as the visage of the local media "personality." I've Got The  
Look. Trust Me, I'm The Good Guy. Only a witless idiot would set foot  
upon the Shirinaui grounds with ill intentions. Unless, of course,  
they had the strength to back them up.  
  
It had to be done, she had to talk to her. This distrust was upsetting  
her too greatly. Forestalling the matter had kept her up that night,  
well into the wee hours of the morn'.  
  
"Nakio?" Her door had been slightly ajar, allowing the vaguest sliver  
of light to intrude upon her apparent rest. Mai had knocked faintly,  
fearful that her intuition may be leading her astray.  
  
'Hai,' she had replied, abruptly revealing herself as she opened the  
door to allow Mai's entrance. 'Mai-san, you wish to speak with me?'  
  
Mai had nodded demurely.  
  
'I'm sorry Nakio-chan, but I can't sleep. I have troubles which...'  
she faltered, eyes stooping to the floor.  
  
'... concern me. I know. Come. We will talk.' She turned curtly, her  
pale blue nightgown shifting pleasantly around the slender curves of  
her figure, leaving the door for Mai to close behind her. As she  
walked to her bed, she pulled out a frightened looking chair for Mai  
to rest upon. Mai had watched her, as she had promised herself she  
would. Every motion, carefully executed like the motions of a dance.  
Not one an afterthought, or lacking foresight. It seemed nearly  
painful to witness how much effort she seemed to drop into the bin of  
thoughtfulness.  
  
Of course, The World Would Be A Better Place if everyone did as this  
woman demonstrated, but it had seemed out of place. What drove her to  
such ends?  
  
'Nakio,' she had begun before even seating herself. The woman gave her  
a Get Comfortable expression and a negatory glance.  
  
'What's wrong?'  
  
Mai had realized something. Over the course of two words, a facade had  
been dropped. A well constructed, carefully delineated outline of  
protective shell had been pulled off to display a real, emotional  
creature. A gasp had escaped her lips. A good three-forths of the rock  
structure in her neck and shoulders dissolved into loose muscle,  
something rather akin to faintly wet sponge. She found, however, that  
her mouth would not work. The questions in her mind had been washed  
into obscurity along with the strains of anxiety.  
  
'I'm sorry Mai, I didn't mean to be so cold,' she had offered, opening  
up in such a manner she had not conceived possible. 'It's hard to know  
who to trust.'  
  
An empathetically transmitted nod was Mai's only comment. Silence  
offered itself to Time, and was accepted with grandiose passion and  
love. The two mingled in coupling until Mai discovered herself roused  
enough to marshal her thoughts.  
  
'I knew there was something,' she had begun, unsure of the state of  
her footing.  
  
Nakio had only smiled.  
  
'Of course you did. I'm not a mother yet, but something close to one.  
You, on the other hand...'  
  
'You're married?' Mai had leaned back, set - to a fair degree - at  
ease.  
  
'And pregnant,' she sustained. Mai started, sitting forward, surprise  
and concern alight upon her fair countenance.  
  
'Why are you training my twins then?'  
  
'Because I still have to make a living.' Wry smirk.  
  
Mai had nodded again, sympathetic.  
  
'How long until...?'  
  
'Seven months.'  
  
'Oh my!' she gasped. Nakio was expected to act as sensei to her twins  
for five years. How could she raise a child and...?  
  
'You knew I would help you,' she observed. With a faint look of guilt,  
and admittance, Nakio had confirmed her words.  
  
'If you don't wish to... I'll leave,' she tossed the words out,  
knowing they would be knocked out of the park before they were  
volleyed forth.  
  
'No, Nakio-san. I wouldn't do that. I had enough trouble with the  
twins to do that to someone like you,' Mai had half-smiled, sharing  
empathy with the Mother-To-Be. 'Besides, it's not like I mind. Um..  
why are you here alone? Where's the father?'  
  
The dramatic change in her face had startled Mai, realizing that it  
was not the best question available.  
  
'I'm looking for him,' she had replied, restraining the sorrow in her  
voice, in the core of her being. 'We were separated just after our  
marriage.'  
  
'But why come here? I can't...'  
  
'It's complicated, Mai. I won't neglect your children, of course, but  
I need to pay for the investigators somehow...' she fell silent.  
  
'I trust that. You have an excellent repuatation,' Mai confirmed. 'I'm  
very sorry about your loss,' she offered, pouring a part of her soul  
into the words. 'You are welcome here. If it will help, I can  
subsidize the expenses of your child.'  
  
'You don't have to do that, really,' she said, an unseen distance in  
her eyes, and echoed within her gentle voice. Mai could feel the  
welling of tears behind the woman's eyes, aware that she was in dire  
emotional agony.  
  
'No, I insist. Your burden is so much, and to accept the charge of my  
children...' she had stated, feeling very strongly that she would  
crumble to tears as well. Watching Nakio in silence, seeing that she  
did not cry, the woman's brown eyed gaze reaching to somewhere beyond  
the walls she looked to be caged in, she perceived an innate strength  
in the woman. 'I could not ask of you such things.'  
  
A strength not so unlike her own.  
  
'Thank you, Mai-san. Thank you,' she had said finally, softly. She  
said nothing more, knowing that to do so would be an error. Mai stood,  
and hugged her, feeling a very close emotional tie to her, very much  
like the bond of siblings, though exactly why, neither could she  
fathom nor concern for. 


	26. And Life Shuffles Onward

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 25: And Life Shuffles Onward  
  
She had segwayed, deciding she could be more effective without the  
others to hold her back.  
  
Uh-huh, right.  
  
Above her grey sweater vest stonewashed jean combination of clothes,  
her hands inspired a brief span of dark shadows to run from the sphere  
of yellow like the burn within them.  
  
"I told you, you would regret our meeting, creature."  
  
  
  
"Where is she?!" she demanded, making a twin palm strike with hands of  
energies nimbus, slamming the shadow shrouded being with white light.  
  
  
  
"The demon child, her child," she breathed heavily. "The trace came to  
you. You must know!"  
  
  
  
"Answer me!"  
  
  
  
"What did you call me?"  
  
  
  
"No..." she squinted, teeth grinding. "You're holding back something.  
What are you holding back!?"  
  
  
  
"What are you raving about, you lunatic!?"  
  
  
  
The massless creature shrunk into the shadows, and beyond her mystic  
sense. She sniffed the air, the trail of the powerful alien obscured  
mystically.  
  
"No!!" she wailed, angry light trailing from her clenched fists and  
she swung them about uselessly. "Damn you Morcanis!"  
  
Alone again.  
  
Vaguely, like the fade of music against the wash of static, a briefly  
passed channel some distance out of range, she recalled a  
mild-mannered girl, not fueled by the incredible sway of power which  
tore at her young soul. Also came the sense of a feminine warrior, a  
heroine dimensions apart from her current locale and mindset.  
Stumbling blindly through the dense forest of sky touching evergreens,  
these thoughts transported her, and then fled as a flurry of a spooked  
owl.  
  
:What did he mean "find friend / mentor / whatever when gone"?; she  
mulled, pacing quite literally on not-so-thin air.  
  
:Usagi-san:  
  
Her eyes flicked upwards to a great serpentine silhouette winding  
through the loose tangle of heaven touching spires.  
  
:Carl:  
  
:Yes; replied the distinctly male mind-voice. The silvery dragon  
descended upon the fearless, altered young woman, who seemed, oddly  
enough, within her own realm of respite.  
  
There was a burst of white light, a shimmer, and the mythic dragon  
became a white silk shirted and black slacked short brown haired  
middle-aged man. As he approached her, his foot caught upon an  
unearthed root, and he paused to dislodge it, muttering something  
unpleasant.  
  
"Then why become human? I'm not afraid of your dragon form," Usagi  
stated dramatically.  
  
"Very few are," he replied as he neared her, brushing off his cotton  
clad legs. "Good people have nothing to fear from me."  
  
Her blue-eyed gaze hardened.  
  
"What are you saying?"  
  
"Fact. What does that tell you?"  
  
"That I'm good?" she blinked.  
  
His regard also hardened as hers dissolved into uncertainty.  
  
"You don't sound terribly certain of yourself. From what I have seen,  
and experienced, survival here requires great strength, whether it be  
physical, or emotional."  
  
Her mouth curled downward.  
  
"Where is Ami?"  
  
"I know, and for that, I also see that you are blessed most  
generously, Usagi Tsukino." He paused, letting the words penetrate the  
shrouding fog of her augmented mind. "Why are you avoiding my words?"  
  
Reality was, he knew perfectly well. The excerise, as he saw it, was  
merely an attempt to further prod her awareness of her unwilling  
metamorphosis, as little as there might be of it.  
  
"I don't like them," she answered promptly, and truthfully, pulling a  
dramatically shortened length of pony tail over her shoulder and  
wringing it in both of her delicate hands. "Why do you push me?"  
  
"Is that how you feel?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then I apologize."  
  
Silence, the breathing Earth, tresses of nature flowing with each  
gentle release, and calm pull. He made a similar request in  
temperament:  
  
"My turn."  
  
"What?"  
  
"To change the subject: Luna misses you."  
  
She averted her eyes, and spun away, releasing the hair to which she  
desperately clung - for comfort. Carl proceeded about her, seeking to  
reach the confused young woman.  
  
"She..."  
  
"No!" she snapped, anxiety blurring her vision and rising her voice in  
tone. "I don't want to talk about this!"  
  
She was gone.  
  
"Oh fantastic..."  
  
---  
  
"Luna-san," he bowed, as he entered the red and green accented  
apartment-sized livingroom. A slender, purple haired woman adorned in  
a black silk kimono faced and addressed him with a deep inner strain.  
  
"Hai Carl-san?" she bowed, deeply, hands clasped together. "Do not  
blame yourself. The choice was hers."  
  
"I realize that," he stated glumly. "It is you for whom I suffer. I  
know what it is to lose someone who has such an intimate connection to  
your heart. Moreover, I am concerned regarding the psychological  
alterations performed upon her, beyond the mystic, and physical."  
  
"And the crystal?" she breathed expectantly.  
  
He sighed.  
  
"Hai. It has been embedded within her torso, placed next to her  
chemically augmented heart. That much I can ascertain. I would need to  
examine her to...." he fell silent.  
  
"It is worse," she gasped, hands coming to clench upon the  
island-style kitchen counter. Carl said nothing, appropriately enough,  
waiting for her to speak, sensing very clearly that she would.  
  
"Ami?"  
  
"Sit down, please," he urged her. A roaring beast of fear lurched in  
her stomach, and her face paled slightly, reading the emotional  
darkness within him.  
  
"There is a local alien intelligence that has gained the confidence of  
Shyanne. When she teleported from the cave, she went to it. I  
discovered Usagi just as she had frightened it off. You realize what  
that means, don't you?"  
  
Numbly, she shook her head.  
  
"Morcanis, that's what this one is called, controls thousands of local  
animals, and a mulitude of semi-intelligent monsters. For it to  
actually want to avoid your friend..."  
  
He could see that she was clearly intelligent enough to understand the  
implications despite the lack of worldly experience, and thus, did not  
finish his sentence.  
  
"We don't know what has happened to Ami, but Usagi has lost the trace  
of her. Optimistically, I suspect outside intervention."  
  
"Hai. There has been."  
  
He blinked at her.  
  
"You know?"  
  
"Akari and Yanei."  
  
"That doesn't make any sense."  
  
"Doesn't it? Who else could have known?" she quested, folding her  
hands nervously in her lap.  
  
"Awareness of her situation has nothing to do with this event."  
  
"No, you're right. It doesn't. I just get this sense..."  
  
"Luna-san, we will do what we can, I promise you that."  
  
She gazed at him, expression clearly thankful.  
  
"If I may ask, where is Artemis?" he requested softly, after a time.  
  
"He is praying."  
  
He nodded slowly.  
  
"I must leave, Luna-san. If we are to locate Makoto Kino, there cannot  
be more time invested here. Usagi will come to you, I am certain of  
this."  
  
She nodded, only half-believing him out of some squalid hope, eyes  
closed, one hand to her mouth. Even as Carl closed the thin wooden  
door behind him, he could hear Artemis' entrance into the attention,  
and tending of his soulmate.  
  
---  
  
For some, the morning was a curse entailing sluggish movement of body  
and mind. The logic: I'm Comfortable and Warm, Why Should I Get Up to  
Face the Miserable World? For others: There Aren't Enough Hours In The  
Day, Let's Get Moving!  
  
Surely Nakio ascribed to the former logic, even as the caramel  
coolness of the sunlit spring sky poured through her window like some  
intruding wanderer. Motherhood proved to be no easier on the body, nor  
the mind, and it certainly did not relent in the production of tension  
and stress. It was an exchange of sorts; the troubles of child rearing  
for those of her recent life, in no way proportional. There was no  
mistake, however, she would no sooner give up Ayana than she would the  
last seven years of her life.  
  
After having prepared the fast-breaking meal, Nakio was joined by a  
very quiet Mai and Tenma. Over the duration of the meal, it came to  
her that the silence had reason.  
  
'We must talk,' Mai issued in a hushed voice, swallowing with some  
difficulty. She sipped at her drink.  
  
Nakio merely nodded, offering no conjectures as to why. However, from  
study, she was able to determine that it was about Tenma, who avoided  
her gaze tenuously. There was a glazed look of pain in her eyes, and  
the bags of want for sleep underneath. The blade of pain had cut  
deeply, and the wound, still fresh, bled lethally. The stain of it was  
evident in her body language, as she leaned forward slightly at the  
table, eyes wandering, uncertain of where to settle. Mai also seemed  
to have managed little in way of rest, fostering the dreary look of  
useless anger and self-nullification. These expressions fell into  
place in glances shared, and not, by mother and daughter.  
  
'Come Mai, Tenma,' Nakio said, standing from the table. Mai began to  
collect the plates. Nakio merely negated her.  
  
'No. Obviously there is something much more important to deal with.'  
  
Mai squinted in her direction, her face betraying curiosity in the  
woman named Kani Nakio, even after knowing her for six years. Finally,  
she set the pieces down, tapping Tenma on the shoulder, realizing she  
seemed unaware of the movement.  
  
---  
  
Tenma wanted to sit in the dojo, noting something about safety. Nakio  
arched an eyebrow at the comment, but made no remark. They made  
themselves only somewhat less than comfortable on a cushion apiece,  
atop the slightly raised stage of instruction.  
  
'So who starts?' Nakio quested strictly, in her native tongue,  
Japanese, wanting to cut to the quick rather than dodge the obvious.  
The pain would come no matter the path of dialogue. Mai and Tenma  
exchanged wistful looks, and the mother decided it would be best if  
she began. As expected, Nakio understood, and was able to relate on  
terms of which Mai had long term suspicions. She avoided specifics of  
place and time Mai realized. As they talked, Mai slowly fell to the  
wonderance of how much more of a history had Nakio that she had yet to  
divulge?  
  
Curiosity was a swift, hungry beast at this time, it seemed.  
  
'Have you chosen whether or not to abort the child?' Nakio asked with  
a faintly betraying tone of disgust. It was clear she did not condone  
the idea.  
  
'I don't want to do it,' she replied, fear and passionate fires in the  
windows to her soul. Nakio set Tenma with a hard gaze of scrutiny.  
'It's not the baby's fault...'  
  
'I need to ask you something...'  
  
Tenma choked, tears rising in her eyes.  
  
'Sensei,' she started, recognizing the tone of command. 'What?'  
  
'It's about you and your sister's safety.' Something not unlike  
desperation shone in her voice. 'You must be strong, Tenma-san.  
Please.'  
  
Swallowing the shard of emotion down - or trying to - she blinked and  
nodded.  
  
'What did he look like?'  
  
Memories flashed, and with them, like the deeply unsettling call of  
thunder, terror beckoned. His grin was the first slide to appear upon  
the white wall of calmness she had constructed in her mind. Goosebumps  
rose on her forearms, she shivered vaguely, clutching her stomach,  
sheer terror in her eyes.  
  
Nakio cursed under her breath. Of course! Tenma had only buried her  
feelings, unable to deal with them. It was not so much that she  
expected the young woman to face them so soon, it was that she hated  
to bring them forth like this. Yet, she simply had to know! Mai  
reached over with a wing to shelter her, but Tenma chirped nervously  
and shrunk away, not wishing to be touched.  
  
Revulsion and abhorrence for herself were adamant. Again, she damned  
her stupidity, her ignorance. She had known! Was it not true that she  
tempted them like that? With her beauty? She was attractive to them,  
and they smelled her like wolves, knowing which would flinch at the  
hint of violence. The weak ones. She had been fooling herself,  
training so hard. What had it done? Nothing!  
  
:But you're wrong; said a voice. Tenma looked up at Nakio through her  
blurred reality. :You are not weak, you are not stupid. Look at me:  
  
Tenma shifted her wandering eyes, wiping them with the backs of her  
hands.  
  
:You see me? I am a strong woman. I was entrapped and owned like an  
animal. Yet I am alive. I survived, fell in love, gave birth to Ayana:  
  
'But you are stronger than I am,' Tenma said, forlorn. Mai assumed as  
expression of complete loss. She squinted again at Nakio, adding a  
touch of accusation to the already suspicious glare.  
  
'Mama-san! We're back!' called a familiar voice.  
  
'Mama! Mama!' cried a girl of only six years age, scrambling up to  
Nakio with no end of enthusiasm. She hopped into her lap, holding a  
small crimson silk swathed box in both hands.  
  
'Look wha' I got!'  
  
:Looks like we'll have to finish this later; Nakio offered with  
genuine remorse to both Mai and Tenma.  
  
Saying nothing, they merely nodded, Mai with a concealed flash of  
shock.  
  
'Hey, are we interrupting something?' Kai asked as she approached the  
seated four, worry skewing her pleasant smile. 'If we are, I can take  
Ayana and we'll scuttle off and grab supper...'  
  
'No Kai, that's alright,' Nakio said, then returned to the 'appraisal'  
of her little girl's new necklace. 'Did you have a good time at the  
mall sweetheart?'  
  
The little gem of Nakio's soul beamed a smile and indicated cherrily  
some of the things she had seen and how nice cousin Kai had been.  
While this was not a literal relation, it was one certainly attributed  
to their intimacy in friendship. Nakio smiled in reply and hugged her  
daughter with immeasurable warmth and love.  
  
'I'm glad you had fun. Next time we can all go, and see the ponies,  
okay?'  
  
'Oooh! Ponies!' she replied, her earth-brown eyes glittering with  
anticipation. 'Yeah!'  
  
'Sis', we need to talk.'  
  
'Wha...' As Kai caught the seriousness of her face, she stated, 'Okay,  
but I could seriously use a cup of tea right now. It's been a hectic  
afternoon.'  
  
'I've got it,' Mai decreed, getting to her feet with a twinge in her  
back. 'I guess I won't be doing that again for awhile,' she sighed,  
pushing at her back with the palm of one hand and indicating her  
formerly cross-legged seating position with the other.  
  
'That makes two of us,' Nakio agreed, shooing Ayana away for a moment  
and following Mai's lead. As they separated, the twins together, and  
then Nakio, Mai, and Ayana, Mai commented wryly:  
  
'You've got a bit of explaining to do.'  
  
Nakio nodded soberly, her fire-haired girl hanging from her arm.  
  
---  
  
While Tenma headed off to her room, where she told Kai they would  
talk, Kai had proceeded to the open kitchen where Mai had apparently  
immersed herself completely in aforementioned task. Watching her,  
concern took the forefront.  
  
'Mom?'  
  
She started, dropping a mug into the sink. The descent was accompanied  
by the sharp, harsh shattering of ceramics. Mai gazed dully at Kai,  
looking tense and on edge.  
  
'Gomen nasai!' Kai apologized quickly, approaching her. 'I didn't mean  
to scare you.'  
  
Mai clearly her throat uneasily.  
  
'No,' she replied, offering no denial. 'It's alright. I'm just tired.  
I'll be fine.' She grasped for the shards in the sink, gathering them  
slowly into her palm.  
  
'There's something wrong with Tenma, isn't there?'  
  
Mai gasped, taking in a mouthful of air suddenly. She clutched at her  
left index finger and winced faintly. Kai responded on a reflexive  
thought, retrieving the first aid kit and urging her mother to sit so  
she could bandage the cut.  
  
'It's nothing,' Mai protested weakly. 'It'll stop bleeding on it's  
own.'  
  
'Will you, though, Mom?' Kai parried carefully. 'I know I haven't been  
around for awhile, and I don't know what's been going on lately,  
but...' Her eyes met her mother's, letting the dressed finger go.  
'I've missed you.'  
  
Mai was silent for a thoughtful moment.  
  
'I've missed you too,' she issued warmly, then exhaled slowly. 'Honey,  
I can't tell you what happened to Tenma. You're supposed to talk to  
her aren't you? Isn't she waiting?'  
  
'Yes, but I'm worried about you too,' and her face screwed up in a  
worried look. 'What then? Is it Nakio?'  
  
Something like shock took Mai for a moment. Of course, that was her  
concern. What could she tell her? That her sensei was... what? She  
really failed in mustering a specific concept regarding the matter of  
her somewhat enigmatic friend. Over the years, since the beginning, it  
had ceased to matter... until now. Mai stood and walked over to the  
home brewed herbal tea she had prepared. Automatically, she retrieved  
a quad of mugs and began pouring some into each.  
  
'Mama-san?'  
  
'I'm sorry baby, but I... I don't know yet.'  
  
'I understand," she sighed. "You will tell me, right?'  
  
Turning, she handed two of the mugs to Kai.  
  
'Hai.'  
  
'Alright,' she half-smiled, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and left  
without a backward glance. Questions swirled anew in Kai as she  
proceeded to meet her sister.  
  
:So what is it? What's is going on? Is Nakio hiding something? What  
could it be?: The only answer came: Anything. Not easily, mind you,  
but it was indeed possible. And since having attended college and  
being away for two years, Kai felt that her awareness of the situation  
in total was slight at best. A week at home just wasn't enough to give  
her an accurate sense of the undertones of interaction that had  
developed over those pair of years.  
  
'Tenma?' she called into the room.  
  
'Hai!' a voice replied. 'Come in.'  
  
Her hair was thin and wet, and she had changed into a - Kai blinked -  
maternity dress? Gazing at her, Tenma's face registered nigh coldness,  
and a partial frown.  
  
'So what was it you wanted to talk about?' Kai asked gently, very  
aware of her sister's defensive mannerisms. The answer, however, was  
made quite obvious.  
  
'So what's his name?'  
  
'Kai... it's... I...' she swallowed a chunk of lava into her stomach,  
for it burned inside her as the emotions swirled within. 'I was  
raped.'  
  
Everything Kai had felt to be true about her sister, the stalwart, the  
strong, the column of confidence, shattered like an ice sculpture  
under the violent throe of a rock slide. Tenma's words held an  
uncertainty for sympathy, aware of the remoteness Kai had walled about  
herself.  
  
Kai found herself trembling, feeling as though slapped.  
  
'Tenma!' she cried softly, reaching for her sister.  
  
Silence offered itself to them, and was accepted in part, aside from  
their faint, autonomic breathing.  
  
'It scares me to see you so... so scared.' Kai admitted with  
Time-wrought hesitance.  
  
Tenma only shook her head.  
  
'You can't dwell on it, sis'. Really. You've go to move on... forget  
the assh...'  
  
'Kai! You don't have to swear!' Tenma snapped abruptly, interrupting  
with round eyes.  
  
'Since when did that start bothering you?'  
  
Tenma refused an answer, feeling vague, and uncertain.  
  
'I guess it doesn't matter. Why are you wearing this?' she pinched and  
tugged at the light blue dress in a pair of fingers. 'You don't start  
to show for several months... Um, how long has it been?'  
  
'Only a couple weeks,' she admitted, eyes downcast. 'But I am...  
feel,' she took her sister's hand, pressed it to her stomach, and held  
her there for a time.  
  
Aghast and awestruck, she pulled back.  
  
'Tenma-chan... how...'  
  
'I don't know.'  
  
'This is what you were talking about with Mama and Nakio.'  
  
She nodded.  
  
'Nakio's psychic. She talked to me in my mind.'  
  
'You need to see Osaka,' Kai decided gravely.  
  
'Who's that?'  
  
'A person I met on campus.'  
  
'What about Mama?'  
  
'Well, hai, of course after we tell her,' she replied with an ashamed  
smirk. She got to her feet. 'I've got to change. We'll go talk to Mom  
afterwards, okay?'  
  
'Umm, I suppose.'  
  
---  
  
'I apologize, Mai-san,' Nakio began, setting herself down at the table  
aside the light of the window in the kitchen.  
  
Mug and plate of sweets in hand, the recipient of the apology refused  
the offer as she accompanied Nakio, sitting opposite her. Ayana had  
decided that her mother was not likely to entertain her, and had  
departed, seeking just that. Nakio warned her not to interrupt Kai and  
Tenma, explaining to the young girl that they wanted to be alone. She  
had smiled, understanding, and trotted off.  
  
'She's so bright, Nakio. Even at six she understands so much,' Mai  
observed, eyes catching the empty doorway through which she had  
exited.  
  
'Hai,' Nakio calmly agreed, sipping at her tea slowly. The warmth  
filled her throat, drew forth a thread of tension from her and untying  
a pair of knots in her neck. Mai's earth toned eyes drifted back from  
the doorway, and halted on Nakio, gauging and considering her.  
  
'Why didn't you tell me you were psychic?' Her voice was serene,  
gentle, and deadly. She held the protective fear and instinct of any  
mother, and though she cared about Nakio, it was plain that the former  
needs would take precedence over their friendship. Nakio shared these  
feelings, knowing them, reading them in the woman's eyes.  
  
'Mai, I am here to protect the twins, not harm them.'  
  
'For your sake,' she replied coolly, a dark fire in her face. 'I hope  
so.'  
  
:It's well beyond time now to tell her; advised a voice within.  
  
:I realize that. But she's not going to like that I've deceived her  
for so long; she replied wistfully.  
  
'Nakio... Or is that your real name?' The hardness in her voice hurt,  
and Nakio winced as if struck.  
  
'No, Mai-san. Forgive me. It is not.'  
  
Mai's glare did not soften.  
  
'I am Kino Makoto. I don't know if you've heard of the...'  
  
'Bishojo Sailor Senshi....' The tension eased in an odd manner. She'd  
heard about their disappearance. Everyone had. Yet even as she said  
the words, only then did the remainder of the facts fall into place.  
There was a rumor one of them had returned, but...  
  
'You've been here for seven years Makoto. You've only been missing for  
a couple of weeks... How is that possible?'  
  
'I don't know. I guess Phate knows what she's doing.'  
  
'Phate? What do you mean?'  
  
'I'll explain.'  
  
'Okay, but what about Kai? You're going to have a hard time explaining  
that to her.'  
  
'Well, it's not going to be any easier than this...' her words jammed  
firmly in her throat, constricting thought has much as her vocal  
instrumentation, '...but I guess it's got to be done.'  
  
Makoto's tension tripled as a stark thought raised its fearsome head  
and glared upon her with glowering spheres of yellow light.  
  
'How do you know? Kai and I weren't friends long enough to...'  
  
'No...' It was Mai's turn for guilt. 'But Kai knows people. It's not  
my place to tell you, but she can. If she knew who you were, she would  
have already...'  
  
She nodded slightly in reply.  
  
'Um, do you mind if I ask what happened?'  
  
'No. I guess it doesn't matter now anyway, since we're pulling all the  
stops. I was captured by a lion youma, who took the us and sent us  
away from this world. It is a long story Mai-sama.' A long restrained  
fatigue penetrated the usually tempered look she wore with such  
deliberation. 'There is so much... and to relate it all...'  
  
Mai shook her head.  
  
'It's alright Makoto. Just tell me... what... Where did you go? How  
did you fall in love?'  
  
The request faded into oblivion as Makoto began speaking. The  
encapsulation passed with several pots of tea, lunch, and the delicate  
darkening of the midsummer sky into the early evening. Makoto  
illustrated the violent nature of the future Earth. She elaborated on  
the Coalition and their Communist-style attempts, and frequent  
successes, in rebuilding a society dominated by their order. She spoke  
of her experiences, her capture - Mai pointed out the reference to the  
story she had told Tenma - her life as a Cyber-Knight, being hunted by  
the Coalition. Through a bout of tears she spoke of Hanlan, of her  
love for him, and the emptiness in her soul, which delivered the  
finest charred slivers of agony every moment she did not distract  
herself from the situation at hand.  
  
Makoto did not speak of Marlanda, and deliberately failed to mention  
the ancient who had saved her from the Slaver and former CEO of Neo  
Tech Industries. She did, however, tell the story of Phate, and what  
had been her bidding.  
  
Rapt, unable to conceive the majority of the events told, Mai sat, and  
having already wept for her, was silent.  
  
'This woman - so beautiful, so, so...' she paused, lost in the  
recollection. 'She was so outrageously sensual that it was more of a  
feeling than a look. She called herself "Phate," and she wanted -  
well, it was really simple. She just wanted me to prove myself. She  
said that she was impressed by my fighting ability, but said that I  
could be better.'  
  
Answering Mai's curious expression, Makoto said:  
  
'It was really crazy. I thought it was a dream. Even a nightmare would  
have been suitable. It wasn't though, and Phate proved that to me  
pretty quickly. She has little tolerance for ignorance. I stayed for a  
few months, training under her, and then she just... sent me here.'  
  
'Why?'  
  
'To protect the twins.'  
  
A quizzical look washed over Mai's face.  
  
'I don't honestly know. It's been so long that I can hardly see the  
point, but... she's never been wrong.' Makoto stated with a tone of  
finality.  
  
'Pardon? Don't you mean "hasn't been wrong before"?'  
  
Makoto shook her head firmly, saying nothing as she stood slowly.  
'Mai... are you up to cooking, or should I?'  
  
Mai blinked. 'Um, if you don't mind...?'  
  
She smiled faintly, 'I don't.'  
  
Makoto began running a sink of dishwater as Mai turned to leave.  
  
'I'm going to check on the twins,' she stated softly.  
  
'Hai,' she replied, not looking at her.  
  
'Makoto?'  
  
The tone of her voice drew Makoto's eyes upwards, her gaze somewhat  
expectant.  
  
'Darling Mako-san, thank you. For your honesty,' and she departed with  
an endearing glance. Makoto sighed, left with the frustrations of  
ignorance. What next?  
  
:She did take it awfully well; Ellison pointed out.  
  
:I suppose; was the morose reply. For once, Makoto's ancient rune  
weapon could not muster a response. At least she would not have to  
trouble Ayana with the nonsense of her fake identity. She was at such  
an age that details like those would affect her minimally - or so she  
thought. With this obstacle cleared, what would come next? The idea of  
Ayana growing up never knowing her father frightened Makoto deeply.  
  
'Mama-san?' Her voice was soft, thick with concern. 'Are you okay  
Mama?'  
  
Tears jumped to her eyes, she turned and scooped the little girl into  
her arms, hugging her tightly. Alarmed and frightened, she yelped.  
  
'Mama-san! Why are you crying?' her bell of a voice pleaded. 'Are you  
hurt?'  
  
Beyond her own pain, Makoto became vaguely aware of a difference in  
her little girl. Her voice, her weight. She distinctly felt heavier.  
The tears halted. It was not just a matter of an additional five  
pounds over a few weeks. The difference was nearly five pounds in just  
a few hours!  
  
'Mama-san? Are you okay?' she entreated of her mother with her  
startlingly sharp brown eyes.  
  
'Hai Ayana sweetie,' Makoto lied, heading towards the nearest  
bathroom. 'I'm fine.'  
  
'But you were crying. Are you hurt?'  
  
:By Phate's word, what do I say?: 'I was just worried about you.'  
  
'Mama-san... I know. It's okay. Papa-san is here.'  
  
She nearly fell forward as she set Ayana on the scale. Her heart  
paused for a preplanned action, and as she gazed unbelieving at her  
child, resumed. She landed on one knee, wincing faintly.  
  
'Ayana... Papa-san is gone.'  
  
She shook her little head eagerly with a pleasant smile.  
  
'No Mama-san. He's here!'  
  
:Ellison?:  
  
:She's right. Your wedding ring. Get it:  
  
:But...:  
  
:Don't argue with me child!; Ellison snapped impatiently.  
  
'Ayana, can you tell Mama how you know about Papa-san?' she asked  
gently, striding at an alarming pace towards her bedroom.  
  
'Hai. I felt him,' she replied matter-of-factly, extremely proud of  
herself.  
  
Thoughts flew through her mind. Ayana weighed too much for a five year  
old now. Almost sixty pounds. Enough for an above average height eight  
year old. She was psychic and she recognized Hanlan's psychic  
presence. Well, as Makoto was so powerful, from being a Sailor Senshi  
as much as a Cyber Knight, it made sense. Like mother, like daughter.  
The first part, however, bothered her. Why was she growing like this?  
Nothing she had read during her training mentioned anything like this.  
Besides, she was not on Rifts Earth any longer.  
  
'Stay here,' she bid, fading into her room, collecting her silver and  
ruby dove ring, and returning only a moment later.  
  
:Hanlan; she thought, reaching out with her consciousness.  
  
Silence.  
  
'No Mama-san, he's busy,' Ayana explained.  
  
A confused and surprised glance suffused Makoto's expression.  
  
'What? Doing what?'  
  
'Saving Tenma-chan.'  
  
'Oh my Goddess...' she took Ayana in her arms and dashed straight to  
the dojo, expecting Mai to be there.  
  
'Where's Mai?' she asked herself.  
  
'Outside,' Ayana replied, her voice sounding distant, vacant.  
  
Makoto's fear carried her thoughts while she strained with child in  
arm as her feet carried her body at full stride. 


	27. The Awaited Moment, and the Unexpected

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 26: The Awaited Moment, and the Unexpected  
  
The silk tresses of the pale violet nightgown shifted in a faint wave  
against her lithe body, the billowing sleeves concealing smooth  
shoulders and slight arms. While blue edged, hollow manifestations of  
manna trailed meltingly from the practiced movement of hand and arm,  
another sensed the ascension of energy, and awoke.  
  
'Iye,' she muttered in Japanese, her breathing steep. 'Wait Yalen.'  
  
The elemental creature yawned and stretched, then sauntered over to  
her pink bunny slippered feet, and curled up closely enough that his  
flame warmed her ever so subtly. She crooned softly, enjoying the  
gentle waft of warmth.  
  
'Void of Whispering,' she intoned, clapping her hands together as the  
aspects of the weaving took final form. A curious rumble rooted itself  
within the core of the flame lion's billowing chest for a moment,  
before fading.  
  
The long-legged black haired botanist drew to a halt, hands buried to  
the wrists in rich multitoned soil within the gaze of the Pool of  
Seeing.  
  
:Who are you? Would you mind getting the; she swore with an ease Yanei  
blinked at :out of my head?:  
  
:I expressly apolagize; Yanei offered, know the futility of the  
gesture. :Your guest, however, and I have dealings:  
  
:Then get... uhh...; Professor Tamara Lillin found herself suspended  
in a wakeless expanse of black, even while remotely viewing the  
actions of her commandiered body. Yanei, an inexperienced body thief,  
yet rapidly learning mage, sifted through her host's recent memory.  
  
:Eventless; she sneered, noting that even while the cross polination  
of exquisite flowers did, indeed, under Tamara's talented guidance  
yield awe-inspiring results, she had no time for admiration.  
  
An image of a black clothed man smiling at her while her heart pounded  
in her chest caught her brief attention.  
  
:Her uncle. Nothing more; Yanei realized. Busily, the image sped on,  
drawing her to the appearance of a long haired young woman and a  
blonde, metal winged child.  
  
"Lady Tamara!" the little one had cried, even as the botanist  
approached the two.  
  
:Lady Tamara?; Yanei wondered briefly.  
  
Apparently she had encountered a number of strangers who were  
interested in her mother, and the two with whom they had escaped, none  
of whom she actually placed any trust in. After a brief verbal  
altercation with an oddly hair styled blonde woman and a human formed  
dragon (a clear shock thus delivered to Yanei), she had teleported her  
unconscious "mother" here. It seemed that Sarah, as she called  
herself, was asleep, sunning herself at present, next to a partially  
redirected springwater pool.  
  
:The blonde was Tsukino Usagi, Sailor Moon, and the other... hmm,  
Hino. Hino Rei, Sailor Mars. But this, this is Mizuno Ami? The pretty  
Sailor Mercury? I don't believe it:  
  
The brightly shimmering pool offered a clear, springwater tinge  
against the young woman's left side, which betrayed a slight  
augmentory discolouration. Ah, the benefits of the Northern  
continents. Tamara neared her, seeming somewhat uneasy, and the alert  
blue haired girl sat up sharply.  
  
"Huh?" she coughed, one fist to her mouth while the opposing hand  
grasped a partially full glass of orange juice. "What's up hon?"  
  
"Just checking on you," she responded, her face surprisingly bright.  
Upon gleaning that Tamara was more the deadpan sort, she altered her  
borrowed expression accordingly. Not cold quite, yet distinctly  
lacking warmth.  
  
"I'm fine," she echoed in expression. "Where's m'baby?"  
  
Astonished by the sense of lordship - or in this case ladyship - that  
washed through her host, she risked a more through telepathic probe.  
  
Flickers of of intimate symbiotic communions with humans to the point  
of sharing their innermost desires, fighting to protect them, and  
recieving life sustaining energy from each individual. Never more than  
one at once, yet each all-encompassing, mystically inseperable, until  
the point of death, or termination of agreement. The former far more  
prominant then the latter.  
  
"Lady?" inquired a soft, somewhat ethereal voice.  
  
"Yes little one?" Yanei felt herself reply.  
  
:I have a Death's Hunger for a host?!; Yanei balked, staggering back  
onto a nearby chair.  
  
:You have far more than that, fledgling; angrily rebuked Lady Tamara  
with teeming, raw confidence. Yanei lurched forward, landing jarringly  
upon her hands and knees with a sharp cry.  
  
"Get out of my mind!! Akaaaaaarrriiiiiieeeeeeee!!"  
  
Sarah gave a start, scrambling to her feet at the abrupt metamorphosis  
of her generous and gracious host.  
  
"Lady?!" Shyanne cried faintly.  
  
'Calm yourself, little one,' she issued in a foreign tounge. 'Your  
mother-false be safe.'  
  
"What's she sayin' Shy?" Sarah questioned, tempering her anxiety  
sternly.  
  
"You're safe, mama," she loosely translated.  
  
"Safe?!" she blurted, grasping a denim vest, which she slowly slipped  
over her shoulders as she walked over to her daughter. "Are you sayin'  
I was in danger, hon?"  
  
A firm nod.  
  
"A young mage foolishly attempted to prossess me," Lady Tamara stated  
coldly. "I will handle her in due time. Until then, you might consider  
Morcanis' advice."  
  
"Tam, ah wanna know."  
  
"Does 'Yanei' sound familiar?" she offered.  
  
"No, but then I don' seem t' remember much o' anybody," she replied,  
mouth twisted in a frown. "Shyanne? You wanna go back home darlin'?"  
  
Her face scrunched uncertainly, then she nodded.  
  
"Not without you," she squeaked, pouncing upon her mother and grasping  
her thighs with her little arms.  
  
"Nah, we're goin' togethah," she smiled faintly.  
  
---  
  
Hovering over the body of Kai, it was obvious she was attractive in a  
rough edged sort of way, though Makoto did not really care. Upon  
spying the creature, she set Ayana down and said:  
  
'Hide. Don't come out until I call you.'  
  
With crystal eyes, her lip trembled.  
  
'But Mama-san...'  
  
:Ayana, don't you argue with me!; she replied firmly in her mind.  
  
:Hai, Mama-san; she said obediently and turned, chasing a shadow back  
into the house.  
  
"Get away from her!" Makoto cried sharply in English, drawing her  
saber from the leather sheath on the belt of her robe, as she ran with  
a fury in her step.  
  
"Oh damn," the woman cursed, hopping backwards from the harshly beaten  
girl, to her feet. A faint ring of steel pronounced the existence of  
her two handed claymore.  
  
"What'd you do to her!" Makoto snarled, dropping on the woman with her  
weight behind her sword. She met the strike easily, and pushed Makoto  
back with what seemed a minimal effort.  
  
:Makoto, wait!:  
  
"Listen," the blonde started to say. "I really don't want to fight  
you."  
  
A shrill cry was emitted from Makoto's throat as she struck several  
times, in what seemed to be less than rational attacks. Aptly and  
cleanly, the slender stranger dodged the first lunge, and parried the  
following motions. With a frown of annoyance, she hit Makoto across  
the head with the pommel of her sword. Stunned, she stumbled  
backwards.  
  
"I'm here with Mamoru, Makoto!" the woman cried in a partially  
commanding tone. "Um... and Han needs our help!"  
  
Makoto paused, enthralled by the mention of her husband.  
  
"What?" she blinked.  
  
:Hanlan, dear child. Ayana's knowledge of her father's location is  
very accurate; Ellison replied calmly. Both heads turned as an  
utterance of protective fury was recognized.  
  
"What the hell...?" the woman flinched, striking towards the direction  
of the voice. Her narrowed eyes eventually reached Makoto.  
  
"Mai!" she forgot Han - for the moment - and spoke, issuing  
unconditional command:  
  
"You're Aaran, aren't you."  
  
The other was half into a nod when she was interrupted.  
  
"Fine. You stay here. I'm going after Mai."  
  
Repulsed, she retorted: "By Lord Black's name! The hell you are!"  
  
A challenge drifted nigh visibly between the two senshi, and for a  
moment, also the consideration of acceptance. Finally Aaran turned as  
if conceding. Her words stated otherwise, however.  
  
"Kai will be fine. I'll just leave Need with her," as she spoke, an  
oddly plain - yet beautiful - short sword was drawn from an unnoticed  
sheath. Lithely, she placed the blade on the brutally marked young  
woman.  
  
A gasp rose within Makoto's mind.  
  
:Ellison? What is it?:  
  
Aaran turned to the apparent leader.  
  
"Hey, you wanna go or what?"  
  
:Ellison...?; Makoto acted only in thought, standing as of held by the  
embrace of an Antarctic iceflow.  
  
:No, it doesn't matter. Go child:  
  
Aaran had to be impressed, Makoto moved quickly for a non-augmented  
human. Quickly enough for her to have to jog to remain abreast.  
  
"T'hell with this!" Aaran stated sharply, leaping at Makoto, who  
started to duck. She yelped as she felt her feet parted company with  
the earth, the rough beating of wings assaulting her ears.  
  
"What the hell...!?"  
  
Aaran laughed delightedly. "Don't you worry, I'll get us there a  
helluva lot faster than that..."  
  
:Ellison... what is she?:  
  
:She smells like a dragon!; was the reply, aghast.  
  
:We'll deal with her later, Ellison. Han can take care of himself,  
right? I mean...:  
  
:It is more complicated than that. I believe you are right, however,  
that your husband is and was not in any danger from this woman:  
  
"Aaran!"  
  
"Not now! Just get ready!"  
  
Makoto threw a misaimed glare upwards. Aaran flinched.  
  
"Sorry!" she blurted. "You ready or what!"  
  
"Hai!"  
  
"Uh... yeah..." her grip loosened sharply, and Makoto felt the air  
surge as she descended quickly towards a shadowed target.  
  
Mai ducked and rolled forward on one shoulder as Makoto's blade  
slipped easily into the shoulder of the beast. Whirling with a howl  
echoing forth from a purple rend of a mouth, Makoto's vision flashed  
crimson as pain seared across her face.  
  
"Makoto!" Mai cried, pushing back her sweat matted hair with a  
bloodied hand.  
  
"That's IT!" bellowed a Boom-Gun of a voice. "No twobit creep hits MY  
wife!!"  
  
With a harsh roar, a silver-grey club of nigh ridiculous proportions  
careened in a deliberated course to introduce the creature to the  
earth. Makoto's ears screamed at her as the shadow-creature dispersed  
in a chaotic cacophony of sound. Stumbling to her feet, she muttered:  
  
"Love...?"  
  
"Mako!" he cried, gently; for his voice could easily strike one down  
as the strength of his fist. He received her gratefully to his arms,  
and held her like a lost love, for indeed that was true. Two others  
appeared beyond the wall of forest, and that of shade, taking upon the  
sight of the reunited with heartfelt smiles. Tears abundant spoke to  
Hanlan, even as she discovered were not so great a distance in  
departure from her mind and mouth.  
  
"I guess now y-you've got an excuse to fight..." she gazed at him,  
eyes wet and imploring.  
  
He smiled at her, all gentility, yet no restraint.  
  
"Yeah babe, you got it straight," and he kissed her, taking words and  
wind in his passion. Mai scrambled over to her pallid child while the  
party gazed on, and upon taking her into her arms, cried:  
  
"She's not breathing!"  
  
The young woman standing aside Mamoru went to Mai without a start.  
  
"I can help," she stated. "I'm a Healer."  
  
Concerned Mother tucked her wit aside and stepped back from her dying  
girl as Demelza replaced her, dropped her hands to the girl's chest.  
Clasped together, she laid her hands on her chest and bowed her head  
in silence, letting her training guide her were she knew her emotions  
could not. Mai stared on, unconcealed terror in her eyes. Mamoru  
stepped up next to her, sympathy flickering within.  
  
"Can she save her? What's she doing?"  
  
Mamoru glanced at her, manner cool, empathy flowing from him like  
sanguine perfume.  
  
"She is a psychic healer, and she can; Tenma need only want to  
return."  
  
"Ah!" she gasped. "My Goddess..." Eyes wide, hands clenched at her  
breasts.  
  
"You don't think she will...?" his hand reached for her, and did not  
halt, falling upon her shoulder. With trepidation she turned and  
looked at him.  
  
:It does not concern him; she thought. :In his eyes, yet, his concern.  
He fears for me!:  
  
"Who are you?" in tones less than at any form of ease.  
  
"Mamoru Chiba, Mai-san. Friend of Makoto."  
  
"Mai!" Demelza's voice called, alight in warmth, and in ease. "You're  
very lucky, um... Mai, isn't it? I could not've saved her with  
traditional methods."  
  
"Mama!" Tenma coughed as she was received to her mother's arms.  
"Mama-san... I'm okay..."  
  
Grateful tears stirred Mai's heart, and spilled over her cheeks as she  
held her daughter and merely nodded vaguely at the Healer.  
  
"What about Kai?" Hanlan asked, worry upon his thick-seeming brow.  
Makoto pushed herself from his shoulder slightly, and pointed at Aaran  
back at the house.  
  
"She'll be fine. Aaran's taking care of her," she noted, sounding  
oddly confident of the fact.  
  
:She's not a bad girl, hon. See?; Han asserted.  
  
:I believe you hon; Makoto replied, warmth flowing from within.  
  
"Makoto-san?" For a moment her heart held at the voice, hardly  
believing the existence of it. As she turned, Hanlan sighed, and she  
saw hope again, faded though it might be.  
  
"Mamoru!!" she nigh screamed, leaping at him with uncharacteristic  
abandon. With a surprised smile, he hugged her, minding Han's crossed  
tree-trunks of arms. After a time, he released her.  
  
"Sorry I took so long," he grinned humourously. "Dimensional jumping  
can be such a drag..."  
  
Makoto's upturned mouth faltered.  
  
"What about Usagi?"  
  
"We must talk," Demelza stated firmly, taking Mamoru's hand in hers.  
"At length, and now."  
  
Makoto's look of puzzlement and suspicion was second only to her fear  
for Usagi.  
  
---  
  
"Who are you?" demanded harsh male tones, protective in the extreme.  
He rose from the limp female figure upon their bed, and regarded the  
strange winged woman with a feral snarl.  
  
"Your mate has threatened one of mine," declared the creature, nearing  
him with a flare of light upon each hand. "I have come to see she pays  
the consequences."  
  
"Over my corpse," Akari swore, his mind balking at the reason for her  
approach. What had Yanei done?  
  
"Yours or hers, makes no difference to me."  
  
Dimly, as Akari responded to her affront by drawing his energy inward  
and assuming a defensive stance, he thought to ask of her reasoning.  
  
"What has she done to you?" he gritted, indicating that even should he  
find her reason acceptable, he would not allow her to come to harm.  
  
"Odd that you should not be aware, soul-bonded as you are," she  
observed, half to herself. "Matter it does not, for you cannot halt my  
hastening of her death."  
  
Akari's brutish face reddened.  
  
"Try it," he dared her, gesturing in such a fashion as to invite the  
onslaught. "I mean it. Attack."  
  
She leapt at him with a banshee screech, the fingertips of her hands  
formed to metal points, which slashed at his tunic, flicking bits of  
grey cloth as he dodged nimbly aside. One hand rose, catching her  
neck, and he held her for a moment.  
  
"Trifling demon," he growled darkly. "You will leave my beloved alone,  
or I will destroy you. Understand?"  
  
She hissed at him, a high, whining thing with tore at his ears. His  
grip tightened, and something small creaked in her neck.  
  
"Don't waste your time trying to change. I am stronger still than even  
that pitiful form."  
  
Her face became a defeated grimace, during which she forced herself to  
relax.  
  
"I understand," she replied, voice restrained, but not by breath.  
  
With a quick, almost robotic snap, his hand opened, allowing the demon  
to collapse upon the grey carpeted floor. She glared up at him angrily  
as she rose, rubbing her neck and growling.  
  
"If even so much as a hair prematurely leaves her head," he whispered,  
his temper quite well restrained for its mass. "I will kill you."  
  
As she turned away, an insulting glare upon her fair regard, his left  
hand caught her upper arm while the right gripped her shoulder. There  
was a wrenching, and a high scream. Akari flipped the severed limb  
aside, several thin laces of crimson arcing with the motion, and held  
his eyes upon her prone figure, hating that she had dared threaten his  
sole desire.  
  
"I could have easily done that to your natural form, demon," Akari  
stated, not realizing his words were unnecessary. She knew that well  
by the ease of his action. Trembling with agony, her blood spattered  
torso shimmered out of their reality with the rest of her.  
  
---  
  
"Han, when we made love, before I... um..." Makoto started slowly.  
  
"Mama-san!"  
  
"You were pregnant!" A welcome smile lit Hanlan's face as he watched  
Ayana run up to him. With a definite leap, she landed in his accepting  
arms. Laughing and cajoling her, he beamed, and Makoto could see he  
would be a wonderful father.  
  
"Ayana, how old are you?"  
  
She rolled her little brown eyes, toying with her hair.  
  
"Nine, Papa-san."  
  
Hanlan threw Makoto a look.  
  
:You've only been gone six - almost seven years; he said in her mind.  
  
:I know, but... I don't know. Just before you got here she started...  
um, we'll talk:  
  
:Naw, it's okay, babe: "She looks just like you - Mama-san!"  
  
She handed him a humored glance.  
  
"And she's got your temper, Buster Brown-san," she replied easily,  
albeit sharply. Mamoru wandered in, and smiled at Ayana.  
  
"Look," Hanlan started, laughing, "It's Uncle Mamoru!"  
  
Makoto's gaze did not share her husband's humor.  
  
"So what, Mamoru... is that it? You've given up on Usagi?!" She glared  
at him harshly, and even Hanlan winced, feeling her anger spark in  
him. Ayana seemed quite oblivious.  
  
"Do you believe I would do that?" he replied with ample fire in his  
heart. "Who else is there for me? Usako is the only girl I love."  
  
Makoto frowned.  
  
"Then why are you with Demelza like this?" Her tones held all the  
respect she would have offered a first class traditional consort.  
  
Despite this, Demelza seemed not at all piquant.  
  
'I saved 'is life, Makoto,' she admonished. 'It may no' be my place...  
but I feel we're as kindred.'  
  
Makoto's frown sharpened.  
  
:Sweetie... Does it matter? You aren't interested in him anymore. You  
got me, don'tcha?:  
  
:Hanlan is quite right; Ellison agreed. :You have much greater  
concerns than these petty matters:  
  
:Uh, yeah; Hanlan started. :Uhm... No. This is important:  
  
:Ellison, don't you dare talk to my love that way!:  
  
:I suppose. T'were I a dragon I would have it differently...:  
  
:But you're not; Makoto said. :Don't be unreasonable:  
  
:Hardly:  
  
:Mouthy broad-sword; Hanlan retorted.  
  
"Mamoru... I don't get it, why?"  
  
He assumed a deep, serious expression, and held the floor with his  
vision for a moment before speaking. When his face met with hers, it  
was full of nigh forgotten pain.  
  
"Demelza did more than save my life. You see," he sat back  
uncomfortably. "When you all disappeared, I was lost. We were all  
lost. Luna and Artemis barely knew where to start."  
  
"Luna! Oh heavens! Artemis... Are they alright?" Makoto said with  
apprehension of the answer.  
  
"They're fine. When we came through... after fighting Akari and  
Yanei... they became human."  
  
'What!?' she half shrieked in Japanese. 'What do you mean?!'  
  
'Makoto...' he cursed lightly. 'I don't know how to say it... It's way  
beyond my ability to understand.' Entreating her with his gaze, he  
continued. 'They're very happily in love, Makoto. They've married.  
It's amazing.'  
  
Makoto shook her head at the impossibility.  
  
'The human part I don't get, but the rest...' she breathed and leaned  
tiredly upon Hanlan. 'Yeah. I gotcha.'  
  
A smile appeared upon Mamoru's face.  
  
'So you are married.' Somehow a sliver of irony failed to escape his  
words.  
  
'Well yeah,' she replied, astonished by the abrupt realization that it  
was Mamoru she was speaking to. The thought fled as she squeezed  
Hanlan.  
  
"Guys?"  
  
One and all turned to the source of the voice.  
  
"Tenma's stable now, and Kai wants to talk to you," Demelza said  
calmly.  
  
---  
  
"At college I met group of people who, well... have formed a secret  
society based around the Bishojo Sailor Senshi. In fact," she gazed at  
Makoto firmly though sleepily from her bed, bandaged almost the point  
of mummification, "I joined them. I've known your identities for  
almost four years now. They've known for much longer."  
  
Dumbfounded, Makoto harbored a stupefied gaze for a moment.  
  
"You were never suppose to know about us," she said, admitting that  
she had known the answer in advance. "But we were there just in case  
Sailor Moon ever really did crumble... and now I guess there's no  
choice..." 


	28. Where Hope Lived, and Where Misplaced

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 27: Where Hope Lived, and Where Misplaced  
  
She had delayed long enough. Just knowing that Luna had hope for them,  
and the powerful sense that she ached in fear for her lost Princess,  
finally overcame her guilt. Luna's world was coming together very  
timidly, a piece arriving with each of the girls, and with Mamoru.  
Luna could plainly feel that they were alive. There was no questioning  
this distinct sensation, something she realized had always been there.  
Was it due to their intimacy? Artemis confessed he felt so such thing,  
but was also somehow also certain of their survival.  
  
It was enough. For what else was there?  
  
Usagi approached their apartment with trepidation and undue anxiety,  
and did so in a blue kimono of a delicately flowered sewn pattern.  
Carl had not mentioned its cost, but aware that such things came  
rarely by the Isles (especially in necessity) she had offered kind  
words of sincere gratitude. Her emotional welfare seemed to matter so  
much to him. He was so kind, and... a gentleman. Only Mamoru had  
treated her with such a high level of unbidden respect.  
  
She regarded the thick oak door, noting its engraved details, and  
feeling her mind descend into blankness, all of her preformed thoughts  
disappating as her hand lifted up and tapped against the hard wood  
surface. Instantly the door opened, and Luna, behind it, peering at a  
sight it seemed she had nigh given up on. Yet they stood there, a mist  
of discomfort among them, holding the two in place like pretty  
statues. Luna was adorned in a pale purple kimono, her hair loosely  
framing her head, and curling softly about her slender shoulders, two  
odango atama upon her head very much after the style of the woman she  
now faced.  
  
'Usagi...?' her voice was quiet, almost wilting. Usagi merely nodded  
faintly, her motion as dramatic as Luna's tone.  
  
There was no dream here, no illusion, and no question. Luna made a  
gesture, and Usagi followed her into the megerly furnished three room  
pale blue walled apartment. She sat across from her - former? -  
guardian on the green pillowed futon. They were quiet for the longest  
time, both consumed by thoughts of the other, of themselves, and what  
exactly had changed.  
  
'You're beautiful,' Usagi finally stated, her mouth curling upward in  
an slight smile. Luna's eyes fell to her hands as they caressed the  
thick purple silk spanning her thighs.  
  
'Thank you.'  
  
Usagi awed at her voice. There was an added depth of womanly  
sensitivity it seemed had been absent before, or perhaps not as  
pronounced.  
  
'Where is Artemis?'  
  
'Practicing his Tai-Chi.'  
  
'Oh,' she mumbled, scratching her recently manicured fingernails  
lightly on the arm of the futon. Another luxury long missed, but  
generously afforded by the gentle brunette Englishman. Abruptly, Luna  
stood, and then bowed apologetically.  
  
'I have prepared some herbal tea,' she intoned, mentioning its type  
nigh inaudibly. Usagi nodded at the offer, and rose to assist her. The  
purple haired woman raised her hand, but Usagi insisted, feeling the  
awkwardness becoming unbearable. Luna was already filling the two  
earthware cups as Usagi sat at the black laminate topped island.  
  
'Milk?'  
  
Usagi shook her head minimally.  
  
'A little sugar, though.'  
  
Luna merely nodded, gazing at her as she poured the substance, waiting  
for her indication to stop. She gave it, and then Luna prepared hers.  
It was odd for the pair, one for Usagi to see Luna's human beauty, and  
for Luna to see Usagi as a grown woman. Both were lovely, and could  
plainly see beyond it, to what had changed. Rather, that they had.  
  
'Not klutzy Usagi-chan anymore,' Luna supposed knowingly.  
  
'No. No more...' she faultered. 'Why did it happen?'  
  
'I don't know. But I don't complain.'  
  
'I didn't say that. Everything's so strange now. But Mamoru loves me  
more now. Sometimes it's like nothing has changed.'  
  
'Why should it? A thousand years could not seperate you.'  
  
'Why not?' Usagi uttered in edgy tones, sipping lightly from her cup.  
'Have you seen Minako? Half of her face is gone! Did she tell you she  
was an assassin?'  
  
'Hai,' she admitted. 'It was hard to hear. But I am more happy that  
she is alive. I...'  
  
Usagi raised her blue eyes and held them upon Luna's bright face,  
which seemed full of hope, happiness, and optimisim, except that it  
was not. Only a portion of these resided in her sparkling purple eyes,  
in her pale cheeks.  
  
'How can you do it? Mina said you had hope we could go back and win.  
Is that what matters to you?'  
  
'Usagi-chan,' she began, still excerising her seniority despite their  
seperation and harsh experience. 'I learned something from Artemis.  
When he was struggling with me after... It is difficult to say this.'  
  
Yet before the words came to her mouth, gazing at Usagi uncertainly,  
an ache in her chest, the image came to her mind, and her friend  
grasped it.  
  
'Oh no... not you,' she muttered, her eyes watering suddenly. 'Not  
you!'  
  
Luna squinted at her, and hissed abruptly, a very cat-like thing which  
indicated that her feline nature had not been destroyed by the  
transformation. Her face eased, the emotion remaining and ebbing in  
low throbs in the core of her being. She reached out and grasped her  
hands, squeezing them in an effort to communicate the calm of her  
soul.  
  
'What does it matter, Usagi? It hurts, yes, but I won't let it  
restrain me. I have Artemis, Minako, Mamoru, and you, and you are far  
more important to me than any pain I will ever experience.'  
  
Usagi read it, not by searching her aura, nor by psychically  
perceiving it amongst the complication of her consciousness, but by  
peering through the windows to her soul. Her smile was uneasy and  
frightened, yet as she came to terms with her guardian's confidence,  
it brightened, taking possession of her entire face.  
  
Minako was right. There was hope.  
  
---  
  
:This is crazy, Makoto! Do you want to suffer first hand the  
consequences of paradox?:  
  
She refused to hear this.  
  
:What about Hanlan, young one? What about Ayana!? Would you deny your  
child life because of your selfishness?:  
  
:You don't understand, you've never had children. It will be worth it:  
  
:Fool! What do you truly know of me, even after our brief association!  
Perhaps I misjudged your soul when I believed you to be righteous and  
loving! Did not Phate make it plain enough? This is well beyond you...  
this is sheer insanity! You are not a Goddess, this is not your choice  
to make!:  
  
:I'm not asking your permission, Ellison. I'm doing this for the  
greater good!:  
  
:Even if you only consider the betterment of yourself?:  
  
Ineloquent silence.  
  
:So be it. This foolishness is yours alone. Don't expect me to rescue  
you from it. Goodbye, foolish child:  
  
The road carried on, drawing itself nigh a park clouded over with  
trees, only to see them tremble and halt their movement, taken by some  
unseen frigid wind.  
  
'Ami!'  
  
Trepidation, anxiety, and anxiousness fluttered angrily in her heart,  
tearing at her cognitive senses. Panic ripped furiously within,  
bringing tears of rage to her eyes and she drew her broadsword and ran  
full tilt towards a destination she would never see.  
  
'Makoto, you would be making a dire mistake if you do this,' uttered a  
voice from the shadows.  
  
From the darkness, it could have been anyone, a tall blond with figure  
that could raise the dead, or kill with the right motion of hip, or a  
homely yet subtly attractive brunette with wiles that would make the  
blond seem chaste... if not for her voice.  
  
It was so damned familiar.  
  
She halted, turning to face the source, tears burning her cheeks.  
  
"Usagi-chan?" she called hesitantly, hardly believing she could ever  
sound so calculated, so cool - so dark.  
  
A deep dulcet chuckle met Makoto's ears.  
  
'No, but close. I am Tsukino Jisuruka,' and the form behind the voice  
peeled forth from the absence of light. Long, slender legs proceeded,  
to start, following to similarly built hips - slim, yet raging - to a  
waist befitting that of a wasp, a small torso with small well formed  
breasts.  
  
Makoto could have mistook those curves for Mina, or even for Ami, who  
had been one the more shapely of the senshi - six years past. Her  
hair, the short purple lengths, in the style of her sister's... no!  
What had drawn that forth? Usagi did not have a sister! Makoto found,  
however, that she could not ignore the physical representation of that  
possibility. Her face, that face, however, offered a more unique  
story.  
  
It was her. A more darkly attractive version of her friend, yet  
nonetheless, unmistakable. Her glare was as harsh as it was sultry, as  
evil as it was seductive.  
  
Despite her anger, Makoto felt a faint blush rise in her cheeks.  
  
'I know why you're here,' the woman stated with slightest trace of a  
smile.  
  
Words faltered. What could Makoto possibly say?  
  
The shady woman set her feet upon the asphalt, and regarded Makoto  
with a direct curiosity. In response, Makoto felt herself flinch, not  
quite knowing why.  
  
'How do you fare? How is Hanlan? Is he gentle or rough behind closed  
doors and shuttered windows...?' There was a distinct pause between  
each question. Not one of thought, one of teasing.  
  
Makoto's nostrils flared as she scowled. The chuckle returned. She was  
struck by the condescending quality that this strange woman was  
relaying.  
  
'A dominant woman like yourself surely doesn't mind a little  
submissiveness every once and a while,' she replied seriously, a  
callous smile darkening her face.  
  
'What do you want?!' she snapped, placing the tip of her blade to the  
female creature's throat. She did not tense.  
  
'Embarrassed? Really, there's no need to be... I understand such  
feelings,' she grinned.  
  
'Jupiter!'  
  
Makoto snapped instantly to the voice, forgetting everything but her  
destination.  
  
'Usagi...' she whispered, feeling the time had passed her. As this  
realization swept over her, anger grabbed her soul, and rendered upon  
it the writ of passionate fury.  
  
A long, harsh cry was uttered out from the core of her being, making  
Jisuruka startle, and take back from her. Before, however, she could  
ask for more than two steps, the threatening blade took at her  
shoulder, slicing the black fabric and bringing forth a crimson mark.  
The woman staggered back with a low grunt, and gripped her shoulder,  
blood painting a partial glove upon her hand.  
  
'Damn it Makoto... I'd thought you'd learned!' she cried, drawing her  
free hand up to clasp into a fist. Makoto abruptly felt an impulse to  
duck, though her body did not seem too eager in complying.  
  
Jisuruka placed her left hand on Makoto's chest and uttered softly:  
  
'Dire Force!'  
  
When she realized that the sensation of her chest exploding was not  
genuine in manifestation, she became suddenly quite intimate with a  
tree. As she gathered her wits, Jisuruka grabbed her by the bangs of  
her hair and slammed her head against the tree, indicating clearly who  
had control.  
  
'It's pretty -' she swore with a casualty Makoto did not enjoy '-  
simple Makoto. I could kill you now, and you'd be out of my hair,' she  
snarled deeply, turning Makoto to face her as she kicking her knee  
into her stomach. 'But I need to leave a warning to your little party  
of bitches.'  
  
'What are you talking about...?' she gasped faintly, blood curling at  
the corner of her lip.  
  
'The Resistance, and those tarty little twits you call cavalry!'  
  
'I don't,' she coughed, 'know what you're...'  
  
'Doesn't matter to me...' she clenched her open hand and hovered it  
above Makoto's left cheek. 'You don't even have to talk... just wear  
this!'  
  
She dragged her nails across the fleshy part of her face, and Makoto  
cried out, thrashing at her and throwing her back.  
  
'You bitch!' she yelped, holding her bloodied face.  
  
'This is just the beginning you human loving whore,' Jisuruka cursed  
evenly. After a moment of seeming study, appreciating her work, she  
spoke:  
  
'The next time I see you, I will kill you,' as she faded into nothing.  
'...and that is to say nothing of what my sisters will do to you  
before then!'  
  
Stark fear held Makoto, hating this creature, hating her with her  
soul, wanting desperately to kill her, cursing her mark.  
  
"Makoto!"  
  
She twisted in his arms as he shook her, gentle as a baby. The world  
forsook her for a time.  
  
:Makoto Kino Ireson!; Ellison snapped harshly. :Wake up!:  
  
Her eyes blew open as blast doors shattered with concussion waves of  
violent force.  
  
"Hanlan...?!" she muttered wearily, waxing weakly from the attack.  
  
"You're bleeding babe!" he got to his feet and drew her easily into  
his arms. Her eyes, half-lidded, took to him stunned, as a lost child.  
  
---  
  
To tell you plainly, Hanlan was quite angry. For the wound would heal  
only stubbornly, was certain to scar, and there was not a single thing  
he could do about the entire matter. He never took such things  
lightly, even when it was best to; it was not in him. Makoto's fear  
transcended his own, for she was sharply aware of the power of the  
woman, and her nature. Kai somehow seemed to have a subtle awareness  
of Jisuruka, though, she admitted, it was not her own.  
  
"Osaka has been watching them," she stated, frowning slightly at  
Makoto. "They've made some countermeasure of some sort. I don't know  
what, though..." she shrugged.  
  
"I swear it was Usagi," Makoto frowned bitterly. "But she only used  
Usagi's family name. She did mention something..."  
  
...that is to saying nothing of what my sisters will do to you...!  
  
"...uhm... she said... um... she has sisters." For the first time in a  
while, she was deathly frightened. She pressed her fingers slightly to  
the bandage of the wound, and winced. "It shouldn't hurt this much."  
  
"Definately a spell, and tricky stuff too," Aaran explained. "Made up  
of two parts; a tracer, and physical manifestation thingy. Lotsa fun."  
  
"That would explain why I have broken ribs and a concussion," Makoto  
blinked, her eyes weary from the pain alone.  
  
"I've done what I can," Demelza stated, clasping her hands in her lap  
as she sat. "The wounds are magical in nature, and beyond my ability  
to heal."  
  
'Sisters? I haven't heard anything...' A none-too-vague scowl appeared  
upon Kai's face as she stood and began pacing. Her eyes settled on her  
mother, who looked the least on edge.  
  
'What about Osaka? Wouldn't she know?'  
  
Kai held her with a dark, uncertain look.  
  
'She might, I'm not sure. We'd have to go see her.'  
  
Rather abruptly, Makoto turned to Mai.  
  
'Mai, so sorry. So very sorry!'  
  
A harshly thoughtful look penetrated Mai's gentle features.  
  
'Why, Makoto? This isn't your fault.'  
  
Makoto's pain restrained her words. She set aside her coffee, and  
stood, turning away.  
  
'You would not have been involved if I did not come. I drew you into  
this.'  
  
'This is why I rehired you,' Mai smiled, rising to meet the long time  
sensei of her children as she paced, drawing her to a sudden halt.  
'We're hatamoto.'  
  
Makoto's eyes fell.  
  
'You have done so much for my daughter and I...'  
  
"Babe?" spoke a deep, yet gentle voice. Immediately, Makoto's eyes  
shot upwards, catching Hanlan standing just in the doorway, Ayana in  
one thick arm. "It's 'cause she cares."  
  
'You understand Japanese, Hanlan-san?' Mai inquired with a slight  
smile.  
  
He pointed to his head, and shrugged.  
  
"Kinda. Mostly through Mako. I guess I'm learning it a bit." He  
stroked Ayana's forehead delicately, careful not to wake her.  
  
"Oh Ayana..." Makoto sighed slowly, in dark tones. "Mai? Would you  
mind...?"  
  
She shook her head, stepping up to Hanlan, arms open.  
  
"Not at all."  
  
Hanlan proffered - with much hesitance - Ayana to Mai. It was a moment  
before he let her go, smiling as he did. Mai bowed her head slightly,  
and was gone. Hanlan and Makoto bowed to Kai, who smiled sheepishly  
from position of what seemed partial entombment, dismissing themselves  
to their own then shared room. Hanlan quite expected Makoto to run  
into his arms, and was half surprised when she did not. Watching her,  
he finally perceived the matter; something inside held her in place. A  
frown replaced the smile he wore, and he approached her.  
  
"What is this? What'd Jisuruka do? I mean, besides that..." He  
caressed the bandage, and her cheek with the back of his fingers. She  
flinched back. "What'd that bitch say?"  
  
"That's not it," she whispered, but refused to speak further.  
  
"Listen, darlin'... whatever it is, we can deal. Don't run out on me."  
  
Abruptly, she realized that was exactly what she felt might save her.  
From what? From all of this.  
  
:Why? We've been apart for so long! Why should I want to run...?:  
  
:It has become a defensive reflex; Ellison observed. :Consider it,  
young one. You very nearly ran when falling in love with Hanlan:  
  
:Hai. And? You weren't there. Living was a privilege. The less I had,  
the less I could lose:  
  
:Things are different. You have stability in your life that has  
escaped you until now:  
  
:Are they really? I think they've just kind of set back with the  
threat of this strange woman! And my personal life... it's only  
half-real. My friends are still in danger:  
  
:I do not know in reality that this woman is as much a threat as you  
percieve her to be. Do you forget that you are allied with a Rune  
Weapon of considerable power?:  
  
:No of course not. But if she's faster than me, wielding you means  
nothing:  
  
Ellison was silent. She could not deny this.  
  
:I appreciate your concern for your friends. I wish you to be happy,  
Makoto. Your emotional welfare, is, indeed, mine:  
  
:I hadn't considered that. I'm sorry:  
  
:I was not seeking an apology. You have never done wrong by me, dear  
one:  
  
:What about our arguement before I met Jisuruka?; she offered this  
with restrained hatred.  
  
:Makoto, we had no such arguement. Believe it or not, at the time I  
was conversing with your husband, and answering various questions of  
my ability:  
  
:I believe you. Hm... that's something we've never talked about. We  
should:  
  
:Undoubtedly. Makoto, I sense you still fear the future. I would ask  
you to remember that Shirinaui clan has been exceedingly generous, and  
I cannot forsee any reason why their manner should alter. You did not  
enjoy such protection before our meeting:  
  
:Why do you think I chose to be a Cyber-Knight? Han may have started  
out a jerk, but he always protected me; she explained somewhat  
heatedly. :You may be in my mind, Ellison, but you don't know me. Not  
by a long shot:  
  
:You are right, dear one. But if we are to survive, and be victorious,  
we must come to know each other better:  
  
:I guess we haven't been working very hard at it... seven years is a  
long time to not work that out!:  
  
:I agree:  
  
Gradually, as she faced her until recently distant husband, Makoto's  
heart twisted against her soul, as she felt her emotions rend, coming  
to lean towards Hanlan, and though flinching, not running, nor wishing  
escape.  
  
"Oh Goddess Hanlan, I'm sorry..."  
  
Hanlan's eyes fell upon her, and sensing the pain within, drew up to  
her and offered what little comfort he could, though his efforts were  
grand. 


	29. Dishonest Likeness

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 28: Dishonest Likeness  
  
Her voice tore through the temple as only one can when it is propelled  
in abject terror, betrayal, and soul rending agony. In the place where  
a powerful example of his kind once stood, and the man who's glowing  
robe shared and amplified his anger as he glared at the steaming  
ashes. The stone structure, in observation, failed to react this time,  
for recently, these sort of occurrences had become quite common. If  
ever so unpleasantly that word may be attributed to death on any  
level.  
  
:He's going to alienate her; was the thought. This, of course,  
Uraki-Ayo knew.  
  
'This cost, dear Yanei, was forewarned. Even as you feared me, you did  
not fear consequence,' he snarled cruelly in viscous Japanese. 'This  
is your error. Take it and learn, for I am at least gracious enough to  
offer you the opportunity of repentance.'  
  
Flaccid of being, wit, and emotion, she gazed at him, soul-stricken as  
the crystal shimmering of tears flew over her flushed cheeks. She  
withdrew internally. To attend the tears would be to admit weakness,  
and beyond desiring to, and wishing her soulmate back, she knew he  
would strike her down should just a hint of this desire slip.  
  
'This has come to exceed my want,' he said, his voice gaining  
unsettling respite. 'Yet I still trust you enough to ask of you a  
mission.'  
  
The bowed her head, and did not raise it.  
  
'You will find Makoto, and once you have learned the nature of this...  
Resistance ...and its leader, you will kill her. I have no tolerance  
for this potential source of interference.'  
  
In observation, he was certain she would gesture in the slightest, and  
betray her more honest nature, yet, she did not, so he spoke further:  
  
'You will leave now, and not return until Makoto's demise.'  
  
As her childishly attractive form faded in a wash of springwater and  
lilies, another introduced itself. Her form was generous, and purple  
adango atama, unmistakable.  
  
'Report your success.'  
  
She merely nodded.  
  
'As you predicted, she was vulnerable. I marked her.'  
  
'The second part?' he inquired, unsuccessfully attempting to conceal  
his anxiousness. The response was as elaborate as the sealed vial she  
handed him.  
  
'Ah wonderful, Jisuruka!' he smiled, seeming to examine the contents  
more than the container. 'Yanei will soon be joining Makoto. You may  
continue the remainder of the collection, I will send your senshi as  
we can fabricate them.'  
  
'You suffuse my honor, Uraki-sama,' she replied, the motion of bowing  
in the gentle closing of her eyes.  
  
'Hai, I do. Now go, I have other matters of greater importance to  
settle.'  
  
He turned upon a bound woman in green and white, regarding her scarred  
figure bound and lax upon the bloodied white table. He had shattered  
the bones in her arms recently, and she had spoken only what he was  
sure were lies, saying she knew nothing, while her screams had  
professed his effectiveness. For the moment, she had earned the  
respite, suffering the presence of piercing nails within various parts  
of her tender anatomy. He genuinely wondered why it was he could not  
infiltrate the source of her power.  
  
Perhaps he had merely sought it in the incorrect manner.  
  
Her groaning voice, raw and weak, indicated her state of awareness.  
  
'Good morrow, Xalia,' he grinned, taking the crimson matted bow pinned  
to the front of her uniform and straightening it. 'I trust you slept  
well?'  
  
The confusion in her face brought a measure of a smile to Uraki-Ayo's  
expression, which he did not hide.  
  
'Are you still sore?'  
  
She moved slightly, feeling the spires of agony were the nails  
resided, and attempting futilely to restrain the cries that followed.  
  
'Are you hungry?'  
  
Her eyes widened, her befuddlement furthered by his apparent kindness  
after the previous nights' torture. A week before that had passed,  
countless unnamable acts performed upon the young woman. As such,  
reality was a blur, and made little sense. Uraki retrieved a fine  
looking sandwich from his cloak, and held it temptingly above the  
girl's red, swollen face. She tried to swallow, her throat working  
harshly as she stared with glazing eyes at the morsel.  
  
:Even if I could eat; she thought, mind blurred, :I couldn't swallow.  
My throat's too...:  
  
The glass of crystal water hovering above her in his other hand  
brought her world to a halt.  
  
'There is a stipulation, however,' he advised her, drawing away the  
life sustaining items. 'This is very much a co-operative, trust  
earning matter. If you give me what I want...'  
  
Her bleary eyes grew wide once again.  
  
'Then you shall receive what it is you most desire.'  
  
This was part of the routine, she knew. Thought what he wanted  
precisely, she still wasn't quite sure.  
  
:How can I tell him what I don't know?! Nasura didn't tell me  
anything!; she thought, the fear of further pain rising in her  
stomach, doubling the effect of that which already existed. :Maybe  
this is why... She didn't trust me?:  
  
He placed the water at her side, and took a bite out of the sandwich.  
  
'I consider perhaps that you are afraid of the pain,' he mused, to  
which Xalia nodded as vigorously as the collar and her tense, sore  
neck would allow. 'And that perhaps you are indeed telling me the  
truth. That a woman, who metamorphosed from a cat, entrusted you with  
crystal empowering you to battle my forces. What was her name again?'  
  
'Nasura,' Xalia croaked. What Harm Is There In a Name?  
  
'Ah, now I recall. You did mention that last night,' he replied, as if  
participating in a casual conversation. 'As Sailor Ether you  
vanquished over thirty of my best warriors. I must admit, your speed,  
mystic prowess, and power over the element of wind is most impressive.  
None of the previous Sailor Senshi exhibited such powers. You even  
modified your uniform to support armor when the situation warranted  
it. Not that it was difficult to eliminate...'  
  
Xalia shuddered. With a welcoming, slight smile, he allowed her a  
generous gulp of the unbelievably refreshing water. She gasped loudly,  
struggling for breath after swallowing so much of the substance.  
  
'Now this is ingenuity which I find highly agreeable!' he noted,  
half-smiling. 'I also find it remarkable that you, alone, were strong  
enough to combat my warriors, best them, and avoid capture until I  
interceded personally. It may help you to realize that you were  
hopelessly outmatched. You faced the finest warrior in the entire  
NegaVerse. Only your champion Princess Usagi would have stood a  
chance, even if it was a slight one. Do not feel badly. You put forth  
your best effort. For that, I reward you.'  
  
For the next ten minutes, he assisted her as she consumed the  
proffered food item, and then healed her arms. As he completed that,  
he faced her, and asked:  
  
'So this I must know, are you being truthful? I am fairly certain of  
the answer, but your response would settle my personal doubt.'  
  
Despite his shocking kindness, she felt suddenly as if she had been  
slapped, even though he had removed any devices of torture from her  
body.  
  
:He nearly killed me because he wasn't sure?!:  
  
With stammering tones, she nodded, and answered:  
  
'H-huh-hai.'  
  
He closed his eyes and stood, as if she had erred. Her heart leapt,  
thudding loudly against her rib cage.  
  
'W-what?'  
  
'Nothing,' he replied pleasantly. 'I believe you. There is the matter  
of your alliance, however.'  
  
He summoned formal uniform which represented the finest of elite  
warriors, and snapped his fingers, altering the blue lining to green,  
to the most accurate shade of her favorite colour. With a motion, it  
appeared upon her body, masking the scabs upon the flesh of her arms,  
legs, and torso.  
  
'I would have you know that I did not enjoy a single moment of your  
interrogation. Surplus agony services no one. I merely had to be  
certain you would answer me honestly.' He regarded her seriously, as  
an equal. 'Yet now I am pressed to know if you would join the core of  
my forces elite, and lead us to victory. Before you speak, let me  
offer you my side of the story with which you are already familiar.  
  
'Our struggle for survival is no different than yours. You understand  
very well the need for freedom? To stay up as late as you like, to  
spend time unhindered with your friends, to experience the joys of the  
world given you? Of course you do. For us, it is really no different.  
We wish to live, spend time with those we love, and to share our joy  
with others. Our joy is the joining of power. To do this, we need to  
establish order. Our order, as there is no other manner in which our  
joy can be spread properly.  
  
'What good is the ability to watch falling cherry blossoms if you do  
it alone? In that manner, we offer any to join us, to share in the  
falling of the blossoms and in our strength. There are those, however,  
who would wish to steal trees, and plant them in their own yard, and  
enjoy them in solitude. How can anyone else possibly enjoy the beauty  
the blossoms offer? I say you cannot. To them, who selfishly hoard  
that beauty, we must explain to them why they must share. And if they  
refuse to listen, they must be destroyed. It is all for the greater  
good, as such ignorance creates disharmony among the blossoms of our  
world.  
  
'In joining us your strength would be as mine. No other senshi in this  
kingdom would match you, but you would have access to powers  
unimaginable! There are many who need our direction, who need to  
listen to be able to join us in our field of blossoms. You could be a  
great warrior, leading many in championing our cause.'  
  
It was for quite a while she lay stunned by the fountain of logic  
which had he had spouted. It made so much sense! She just wanted to be  
normal, when Nasura had foisted this strange cause upon her. They only  
wanted peace too! If she could just get them to understand...  
  
'Hai, Uraki-Ayo-sama, I will join you.'  
  
His smile was grand as he released the metal bonds about her wrists  
and ankles. As she sat up, she touched the collar warily, looking at  
Uraki questioningly.  
  
'I must apologize, dear Xalia, but that must remain until you have  
proved your loyalty. You understand, correct?'  
  
She nodded, massaging her wrists.  
  
'What do I do first?'  
  
'There is the little matter of this Resistance they are forming. I  
understand Nasura is making plans to replace you...' 


	30. How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love ...

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 29: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb  
  
There was a desperate crying, weeping, dissolving in the pain of her  
own existence, losing all hope, finding it again, and banishing it.  
  
But it did not have a voice.  
  
:Oh Goddess! Not again!:  
  
The hand was slender, and as it reached, the facade of skin shattered  
and fell, leaving behind the geometric gleam of metal. She ducked  
back, weaving away, but failed to flee. The clawed hand gripped her  
upper arm, and painlessly, the fingers slipped into her flesh, tearing  
the arm loose in a harsh motion.  
  
She did not scream. It was not the first time. Though tears stained  
her beautiful face, her blond slivers of hair shifting over her  
slender features, though pain rendered her soul, she did not cry out.  
  
:Who are you...:  
  
A blue streak lit the infinite darkness, holding a part of her mind,  
drawing forth her inner child. She remembered, she knew. It was a  
friend. Her inner southpaw was too young to know, but it was there,  
buried back... nearly forsaken, but still alive.  
  
:Ami?:  
  
A feral snarl wafted beyond her sight, hovering in her ears. Three  
silvery blades drifted near her face, and she held her breath.  
  
:I don't know who you are, but get out of my dreams!:  
  
:Ami no! Don't do this..! Don't you know who I am?:  
  
Her anger skewed face appeared in a shadow, glaring with the intensity  
of acknowledged death.  
  
:Sorry honey; she said before offering her knowledge to her perceived  
enemy.  
  
'No!'  
  
'Usako!' replied a fearful male voice in Japanese. 'Usako... it's  
alright.' His arms wrapped firmly about her, she trembled at the  
passage of dreams.  
  
Again.  
  
Tonight they shared the same cot, for Usagi was temperamental as a  
Juicer, and as uncertain as a Crazy.  
  
'Was it the dream?'  
  
He felt her hair shift at his shoulder; a nod. For a succinct  
stumbling of Chronos, Silence stammered and wept, feeling for the  
young woman.  
  
'Ami's out there... she's lost... she's confused.'  
  
He sought her eyes as Silence fled, and Chronos passed idly onwards.  
  
'I don't understand.'  
  
She shook her head.  
  
'Neither do I. I think maybe she is trying to reach me.'  
  
'But she lost her memory of us, how...?'  
  
Silence. Dead, unquestionable, Phateful silence.  
  
:My love, Usako... Please darling, speak to me:  
  
'No!' she whispered, pushing away abruptly from him. 'No! You couldn't  
do that before!'  
  
'I...' he felt the silence in him, and did not refuse it. It was  
almost comfortable. The moonlight fled from their dispassioned faces  
as a silver of warmth replaced it. The easy heat lit her forearms,  
where her fists were clenched in all of her torrential feelings.  
  
'Usako? What...?'  
  
She leveled her eyes to his, reading the fear in her sudden power, and  
his uninflicted love.  
  
'The Coalition did this,' she said in hushed tones. 'They changed me.'  
  
Mamoru nurtured his silence, unsure of any words.  
  
'Do you still love me?'  
  
His mouth opened, but her shining finger halted him.  
  
'No, Mamoru, look at me. I am not the same childish teenager you fell  
in love with back on earth. I hunt demons, I smell magic. Can you love  
that?'  
  
'Usako, we have both changed. I have become an Earth Child. I am  
psychic. It doesn't matter. It simply does not matter. I fell in love  
with you over a thousand years ago. I will always love you.'  
  
'Mamoru!' she leaned upon him fully, kissing him upon the mouth - an  
altogether clumsy thing - leaving no doubt in his mind.  
  
She had not changed all that much.  
  
---  
  
'How do you know? You're just a...'  
  
'Juicer?' Aaran shook her head. 'Not anymore... You've heard of the  
Lord God Black, haven't you?'  
  
Makoto's face tightened inquisitively.  
  
'He's a God of War and Dragons. I'm one of His High Priestesses.'  
  
:Ellison?:  
  
:She's not lying, dearest. She speaks sooth. At least, where I come  
from:  
  
Makoto merely nodded solemnly.  
  
'And?'  
  
'I'm looking for my brother. Uh, well, y'know, it just turned out I  
could help Demelza, who was kinda going my way when I stuck out my  
dimension shifting thumb...' A slightly pleading look entered her  
face, as if she expected Makoto to have a concept of her desire.  
Again, Makoto fell short.  
  
'Maybe you've heard some rumors, or... His name is Jake Yyone, he's  
stationed at Lone Star, in Tex...'  
  
'I know where Lone Star is,' Makoto waved her hand with a hard set  
facial adornment. 'Listen, I really don't know. I've been away for  
seven years.'  
  
Aaran arched an eyebrow sharply.  
  
'We didn't take that long!'  
  
'Look, it really doesn't matter. Talk to Usagi. She was there.' Makoto  
gave a faint half shrug, turning away. 'She might know.'  
  
'Okay,' Aaran said softly, getting to her feet and approaching the  
door. 'Makoto.. you fight pretty well.... I think, if I ever see you  
again, that maybe it would be nice if it was on different terms.'  
  
Makoto nodded hesitantly.  
  
'I'm going to see Usagi in a minute if you want to come with me.'  
  
'Well, sure,' Aaran agreed, waiting for Makoto to walk through the  
door first, leading the way.  
  
:Any luck, love?:  
  
:Adolphus!; she cried in pleasant mind-tones. :Where are you? I  
don't...:  
  
:Of course not. This is a rather inopportune place to 'talk'; replied  
he with a trace of a mental smirk.  
  
:Far be it for me to refuse, but.. I've got to right now. I might've  
found a lead to Jake!:  
  
:A lead? So Makoto was able to tell you...?:  
  
:No, Makoto doesn't know. She told me her friend might:  
  
:Contact me when you desire my company, love:  
  
:Damn skippy; she replied cheerily.  
  
As they entered the dojo, Makoto half called out her friend's name,  
before realizing that she was already entwined in conversation.  
  
'I cannot tell you what it means, I am not you. Yet, I think your  
instincts are correct,' offered the oddly red-haired woman.  
Immediately Makoto knew why.  
  
'She's American,' Aaran muttered, glancing at Makoto.  
  
'Canadian, actually,' was the woman's unbidden reply. 'Come now. I  
have as much need to talk to you as Usagi.'  
  
The two stepped forth, as bid, and dwelt before her, Aaran quite  
certain she was not included in the matter at hand, and rightfully so.  
Regarding only Usagi and Makoto, the former of whom took aside her  
friend, in worry.  
  
'So, Sailor Senshi, what will you do?'  
  
Usagi handed her gaze to Makoto, who offered it directly in reply,  
also unsure of their next course of action.  
  
'Osaka, I do not know. We are not ready to fight. We are not even  
together yet!' Usagi replied, expression unsettled. 'It all hinges on  
you.'  
  
The middle aged woman gasped at her forgetfullness.  
  
'I am sorry,' she stated, blushing faintly. 'I was brought into this  
at the lost minute, and told you had questions for me.'  
  
'Um, hai,' Usagi nodded glumly, feeling very much a small child. 'We  
do. But...'  
  
'Actually, we were kinda hoping you would be able to guide us," Makoto  
elaborated for her friend who seemed unable to pull together a  
complete sentence. "Kai-chan said you would tell us about the Senshi  
Resistence.'  
  
'Oh, of course!' she smiled faintly, and briefly. 'There's so much  
more to it than that. It's hard to cover all at once.'  
  
Usagi nodded, a panicked ache in her chest.  
  
'Hai. I get it,' she breathed, gazing about herself nervously.  
  
'Usagi-san?' Makoto prodded. 'Are you okay?'  
  
'Hm?' she started, flinching away from Makoto's gentle hand. 'I guess.  
I'm leaving with Mamoru very soon to get Ami... I just want to know  
who it is that's set up this whole Resistence thing, and what it means  
for us.'  
  
'Hai, then. You have more friends than you will ever realize. Nasura  
Iridian and I are responsible for the network of people who have come  
to form the Resistence. What it means to you is that there is hope  
here. We have successfully fought off the increase of demons since  
your exile.'  
  
'I don't understand. How many? How powerful? Who? Who is the new  
senshi? What's happened to her? Who are Akari and Yanei?'  
  
Osaka fell silent, gazing at Usagi wide eyed in stock amazement.  
  
'I don't have answers to most of those questions,' she gradually  
managed to reply. 'But here is what I know: A young woman was  
appointed to be the first protector of earth, as Sailor Ether.'  
  
'But Ether isn't a planet.'  
  
'No, but none of these girls are Royal Senshi, either. Nasura felt it  
would be disrespectful to select names that might already have  
owners.'  
  
'Hai. Thank her for me.'  
  
'Of course. This girl has done very well, up until the introduction of  
the Vortex crystal which has appeared in northern Tokyo.'  
  
'What?' Makoto blinked.  
  
'Later. Members of the Resistence are attempting to determine it's  
purpose as we speak.'  
  
'When that thing starts up, you'll know it,' Usagi snarled faintly,  
hands slipping up to her hips. 'What about Akari and Yanei? And where  
is Sailor Ether now?'  
  
'That's the problem. We don't know. The same goes for Akari and Yanei.  
Ether is missing, and the other two haven't done anything in days.'  
  
'So I guess things are getting pretty tense, eh?' Makoto remarked.  
  
She nodded, emotions restrained.  
  
'Good. That helps,' Usagi stated softly.  
  
'Helps?'  
  
'Helps me to understand this. So what made Nasura decide to start up  
this little network?'  
  
'She is merely an organizer of those with interest in your welfare.  
The initiative comes from every individual involved.'  
  
'Then what's hers?' Usagi inquired sharply.  
  
'She seemed to sense some greater evil, something powerful. Something  
you couldn't defeat.'  
  
'I'd be insulted if it wasn't true,' Makoto frowned angrily. 'Do you  
know what it is?'  
  
Osaka nodded.  
  
'The NegaVerse, directed by its oldest champion; Uraki-Ayo.'  
  
Makoto did not suppress her snarl.  
  
'Give me one round with this bloody...' her words deepened into viral  
curses.  
  
Usagi startled slightly at her harsh language. Osaka shook her head  
negatively.  
  
'Please, Makoto... I cannot pretend to understand how you feel,  
but...' she frowned pointedly.  
  
'Gomen nasai! I guess I'm still pretty angry with... well, him,' she  
replied, her face darkened by the internal swirl of long buried  
emotions. 'What's the plan? What are we going to do?'  
  
'Not much until Nasura Knights the new warriors.'  
  
Makoto's feral expression faded into puzzlement.  
  
'You haven't already?' Usagi inquired softly, ignoring her friend's  
subsiding torrential anger.  
  
'You must understand, we were caught off guard by this. If we Knight  
the wrong ones, then we could easily blow Tokyo's only hope for  
survival. Chances are Ether's disappearance may be a result of her  
premature Knighting.' A destitute look wandered over her face, and she  
shared it with Usagi, who turned away. 'It is miraculous that we even  
can hope to offer this kind of protection to Tokyo, but we can't  
afford to take it lightly.'  
  
'Hai. I understand. You know what you're doing. Forgive me.'  
  
'Forgive what? We've been acting behind your back for almost a year.  
We should be asking for forgiveness for not telling you sooner.'  
  
Usagi could only shake her head.  
  
'Usagi?' prodded another feminine voice.  
  
'Hai?' she returned weakly, vaguely, eyes flicking upwards for a  
solitary moment.  
  
'I apologize for my interruption,' the somewhat buxom blond excluded  
from the conversation bowed nervously. 'But I was hoping you might be  
able to answer a, um, couple questions. When...' Aaran paused,  
uncertain. 'When you escaped from Lone Star,' and paused again as  
Usagi winced. 'Did you ever hear of a CS grunt named Yyone?'  
  
Aaran felt the pain writhe inside Usagi, and knew that she wanted to  
help, despite it. Despite everything she had suffered. She also was  
aware of a potentially all consuming shard of rage, one very similar  
to those she had experienced as a Hormone Juicer. This made her draw  
back slightly. Usagi closed her eyes tightly as tension sought to  
invite her fury forth.  
  
'Hai, Aaran, he is out of Lone Star. He is with my friend Minako.'  
  
'Thank you,' Aaran bowed slightly to Osaka and Makoto. 'Makoto, I have  
things to attend to, but I will be here when you wish to go back.'  
  
Usagi's eyes snapped open, and she hissed at Aaran angrily.  
  
'Go be with your dragon lover, then! Leave!'  
  
Dumbfounded, Aaran gazed at Usagi, stunned. Makoto stared at her  
friend, openly lost.  
  
:Adolphus...?; Aaran pined in her mind.  
  
Aaran was clipped out of their reality no sooner than the thought had  
been issued.  
  
'What the hell was...'  
  
:Makoto-san, forget it; Ellison warned.  
  
:What was that though? How the hell does she know who Aaran's with?:  
  
:No idea. But if you haven't received the hint, she is volatile in the  
extreme. Best to leave it be:  
  
:Hai...:  
  
'Uhm, Usagi, what's wrong?' Makoto inquired, though not moving.  
  
The blond woman's face grew a tad more placid.  
  
'Nothing. I'm just tired, that's all.'  
  
'Then rest,' Osaka offered.  
  
'No! There isn't time. There's too much at stake,' Usagi's voice was  
harsh, and unusually stubborn sounding. 'I have to find Ami.'  
  
Osaka frowned, her head bowed.  
  
'Usagi, I wish could help. But...'  
  
'No, thank you, and I am so sorry. I would stay, but I need the others  
if we're going to defeat this...' she squinted, an emotional fatigue  
washing over her. 'Uraki-Ayo. You're doing everything you can, and I  
am very grateful.'  
  
Osaka blinked at Usagi's words, but then decided not to question them  
at this point.  
  
'Then please go. I understand what is at stake.' Her eyes met Usagi's,  
seconding her earlier wish of favourable luck.  
  
'Makoto, I'm so sorry!' Usagi whispered, wrapping her arms around her  
friend in slighted emotion. 'I'm... I just...'  
  
'No, Usagi-san,' she replied with a faint smile, altogether startled  
by her friend's abrupt alteration in temperament. 'This bastard isn't  
going to win. I should go with you.... but...'  
  
'Forget it. Mamoru and I will do okay. I can take care of myself.'  
  
'Yeah... good luck.'  
  
'Arigoto.'  
  
Watching them, Osaka's thoughts came to her own daughter. Nasura would  
not miss a beat, and it occurred to her to wonder if she might select  
Ayla. She hoped not. A nod saw Usagi's departure, and Makoto's  
induction into Osaka's command.  
  
'Osaka-san, when will your Senshi be "Knighted"?' Makoto inquired with  
heated anxiousness.  
  
'That is entirely up to Nasura. She has told me nothing of what she  
plans to do. All we can do is wait.'  
  
'Wait. My first choice,' she sighed.  
  
---  
  
"You're pretty lucky there Mamoru, she's a nice girl. Fine lookin'  
too."  
  
The recipient leaned back against the chair, hands in his loose pant  
pockets.  
  
"You don't know what Makoto was like before, do you."  
  
"All I know now is she's plenty tough, a helluva fighter, and the  
sexiest woman I've ever seen," he replied with a wide grin. "My wife  
kicks ass. Pretty sweet package if you ask me."  
  
"She's always been beautiful, but she's more now than she used to be."  
  
"What're you sayin'?" Hanlan half-snapped.  
  
He answered him with a reproachful look.  
  
"Look, do I really seem like that to you?"  
  
"I dunno. She talks about you like you used to be an item."  
  
"Figures. She always did have a funny sense of romance. No, you don't  
understand. Before all of this, I used to protect them."  
  
"Them who?"  
  
Mamoru stored his sigh for later use.  
  
"The Sailor Senshi. Makoto, Usagi, Ami, Rei, and Minako."  
  
"Oh," he nodded slowly. "Uh-huh. I remember."  
  
"Usagi and I are destined to be together. We loved each other before  
we were reborn."  
  
"Reborn? Whatcha talking about?"  
  
"Didn't Makoto tell you anything about herself?"  
  
"Yeah, lots. She told me she's not human if that's what you mean."  
  
"It is. They were all born on the Moon. Usagi's mother was the Queen.  
Queen Serenity of the Moon Kingdom."  
  
"Freaky," Han commented dryly. "Well, yeah, it's like I said: When  
Makoto talks about you, it's like you're her brother 'r somethin'.  
Sometimes more. I mean, I guess that's why I got all like that."  
  
"That's alright," Mamoru replied curtly. "What I meant by her being  
more beautiful... it's just the fact that she's older now. A woman,  
not so much a girl anymore."  
  
"With little Ayana? No frickin' doubt," Hanlan whistled. "So what  
about you? Weren't you born on the moon too?"  
  
"No. I was a warrior from Earth. I was courting Usagi when the army of  
the NegaForce attacked and destroyed the Moon Kingdom." His voice drew  
back slightly.  
  
"So what happened? How come Mako didn't nail their asses to the wall?"  
  
Mamoru had to wonder just how much of his friend's change was not  
visible.  
  
"She's always been the toughest of the Sailor Senshi, but wasn't as  
strong then as she is now... if that puts it in perspective."  
  
"Sorta. What's different about her?"  
  
"It's hard to tell. I mean, I don't know exactly, not really... so  
much has happened," Mamoru sighed.  
  
"Well, maybe it doesn't matter so much. What happened after this bitch  
nailed the Moon Castle? Or whatever it was."  
  
"Queen Serenity sacrificed herself to banish the creature which  
destroyed her Kingdom."  
  
"Yowch. When was this?"  
  
"About one-thousand years ago."  
  
Hanlan's face twisted inquisitively.  
  
"So why didn't they come back and cream you guys when they got strong  
enough? And how'd you survive, anyway?"  
  
"I don't know. The Sailor Senshi were much more powerful then... To  
protect us from the NegaVerse, Queen Serenity sent us into the  
future." He shrugged, indicating that it still made little sense to  
him.  
  
"I dunno Mamoru, I'd be happy just t' still be kickin' it with yer  
sweetie."  
  
Mamoru chuckled.  
  
"Yeah. I am."  
  
"So... my Mako-babe and her friends are your chick's bodyguards?"  
  
"That's about the size of it."  
  
Hanlan lifted a tall cold one to his lips, took a long gulp, and  
remarked:  
  
"Now I've heard it all."  
  
---  
  
The evening air of the clouded amethyst sky cast over the Shirinaui  
archerage like some great downy blanket, muffling the still bright sun  
and warding its soothing warmth. It was damningly cold, and Mamoru  
strode with the edge of wary concern, watching the world about him as  
much as Usagi. Makoto had told him of her outburst, and he knew from  
Minako that there was some change in her, some fearful, dramatic  
skewing of what she was.  
  
Worrisome, he took her in his arms, and she did not refuse him.  
  
Why she had chosen the contemplative territory of the open aired  
training grounds of the Shirnaui martial arts school puzzled him, and  
summoned forth unpleasant curiosity. It was unlike her to seek the  
outdoors when troubled. However, he was frightfully aware of there  
being so little that remained of her former self. On the matter of  
their earlier argument, he understood to a degree her angered  
reaction. In the revelation of suddenly becoming an Earthen creature  
of much strength and fury, an Earth Child, he had felt much the same.  
Bitter, angry, betrayed. By whom? Phate, probably, though she never  
made promises of any variety.  
  
'Usako, what about Makoto?' his voice was concentrated with acidic  
concern as he held her.  
  
'The NegaForce still wants to fight,' she began, her light, soft voice  
lethargic. 'They just wanted us out of the picture. I see that now.  
Makoto is going to stay behind to help the Neo Senshi get together to  
fight for us until... until we can get our team back...'  
  
Mamoru's head shook slowly.  
  
'What if they are not strong enough?'  
  
'I think Nasura knows what she is doing,' she replied, hatefully  
uncertain of her words. 'I don't know who else to trust anymore.'  
  
'You can trust me.'  
  
'Hai Mamoru-san,' she replied, as if unsure.  
  
The evening bitter wafted amongst them again, as if attempting to  
separate them. Mamoru was not so surprised by her tactility, but  
rather by her edgy demeanor and frantic emoting. Yet, he had sworn his  
life to her... a vow honoured in diligence by will of heart. There was  
an answer. It would be found!  
  
'Aaran is waiting. We should go.'  
  
'Hai, my love. Hai.'  
  
They proceeded beyond the walls of the structure ancient in design,  
recent of construction. The scene presented was one of nigh restless  
tranquility, as if at any point a disruption would rend the canvas  
bound images to embittered shreds. Carl had honoured his promise of  
assistance, providing them the means to discover the precise  
whereabouts of Ami, and the opportunity to recover her. It was not an  
offer accepted ungratefully, nor without the acknowledgement of how  
fortunate they seemed.  
  
'You ready? Carl's waitin',' Aaran pointed out plainly in accented  
Japanese. She ushered them into the sleek black and white low slung  
vehicle with literal scads of armour and weapons adorning it's nearly  
sensual aerodynamic figure.  
  
'Hai,' Usagi nodded. She glanced over at the silent, yet anxious  
Mamoru, who held a deep query in his soul as he reclined comfortably  
beside his formerly lost love.  
  
:I feel that, my love. Tell me?:  
  
Mamoru blinked. :Hai! But I thought... no... nevermind. What did I  
miss? How did you escape?:  
  
:I've told you that, Mamo-san..; she noted gently. :Carl was very  
kind. The 'CSM' a group of mutants, they, well... they offered to help  
free me, as I understand it, in exchange for sanctuary... You  
remember, right?:  
  
:Hai, I do:  
  
:Is that all?:  
  
Mamoru's eyes widened. Usagi's shocked expression passed for one of  
humour as she raised her slender prosthetic hand to her mouth.  
  
:You're so cute when you look confused:  
  
:Confused? Ah... um... go ahead:  
  
Usagi shuffled the heavy grey overcoat she had acquired from Mai about  
the smooth curves of her matured figure.  
  
:Carl 'ported us out of Lone Star... where... um... where they...:  
  
:I know. Let's not get into again:  
  
She smiled wistfully, and gratefully at him.  
  
:I guess he was looking for Ami too, but she was gone. I was very  
angry about that...; she noted in a nigh unemotional monotone. She  
blinked, and rubbed her eyes before continuing. :I found out I could  
trace the mage who took Rei and Ami. When we found them, I fought with  
a small demon child who had claimed a very different Ami as her  
mother.  
  
:Carl argued with her for a bit after I knocked Ami away with a faint  
energy burst. She wasn't hurt, I just wanted them separate. I remember  
clearly that Carl became quite vehement with the child, who took off  
shortly thereafter:  
  
Mamoru shook his head morosely. :She'd never had struggled in school  
with a vocabulary like that!:  
  
:It's been a year Mamoru! I've been through so much. Do you honestly  
think I haven't learned?:  
  
:No, Usako; he sighed audibly. :I guess not:  
  
:I mean look what you've learned! You're a KnightsSquire, besides  
being an Earth Child... you know?:  
  
:Osaka offered to Knight you directly! Why'd you turn her down?:  
  
She yawned and leaned forward, as she locked her arms around his  
torso, head on his chest.  
  
:Because of my responsibility to the Senshi. Luna is right. I can feel  
it. We can still win. I can't be a KnightsMage, a Sailor Senshi, and a  
Demon Hunter all at once: She looked at him with the regard of a  
hyperactive child and giggled warmheartedly. :Silly love. There's so  
much you don't get:  
  
He sighed, and urged her to continue. :Do you know where they went?:  
  
:I told him I felt a dimensional shift, like when Makoto disappeared.  
I wonder if it was a transit to the same place, and why she hasn't  
talked about it...?:  
  
:I imagine she has good reasons, even though we haven't thought to  
ask. What about Ami? Has Carl found her?:  
  
:Oh, I'll ask her when we get back. Anyway... hai, he knows where she  
is. He said he would find her while we helped look for Makoto. That  
was when he brought me to England... to be with you again:  
  
Mamoru smiled at that. So many anxieties abated, so many others born.  
He paused as he realized a sudden lack of motion. Glancing about, he  
noticed only the succinct wash of green forest and shining sky.  
  
'That's the ride kids, thanks for travelling Dimensional Skippers!'  
Aaran laughed.  
  
'Where are we?' Usagi hissed, hackles risen.  
  
'A world of fantasy, to put it mildly. This is where Ami is,' she  
replied, then shrugged. 'All's I know is Sarge told me to bring you  
here!'  
  
The side door opened, and as they stood and stretched, Mamoru gathered  
the existence of a distant town.  
  
'Usako, look,' he indicated with word and directional finger.  
  
Usagi inclined her shoulders upward for a moment as she slipped the  
heavy overcoat from them.  
  
'It's nothing, just a warring town,' she elaborated, folding the coat  
into her palm, where it seemed to disappear. 'They're in the middle of  
a war against some local demons.'  
  
Mamoru just gaped at his soulmate, completely befuddled.  
  
'She's right,' stated a friendly baritone in perfect Japanese. 'I  
guess there's more to her transformation than even I can sense.'  
  
'Hello Carl Silver,' Mamoru offered somewhat stiffly.  
  
Carl regarded the tone with sympathy, a vaguely concerned expression  
upon his face.  
  
:I am sorry that I cannot change what has happened here. We have acted  
as swiftly as humanly possible:  
  
The fire in Mamoru's bosom tamed, and calmed in respect, but found  
words lacking.  
  
:We're grateful; Usagi elaborated softly, where he could not.  
  
'Listen gang, I'd love to chat, but I'm needed!' Aaran proclaimed,  
bowing her head as her blond hair altered to red, her figure gaining a  
shapely quality formerly lacking as a dark brown kimono concealed her  
newly adorned body. She cast her brown eyes skyward and called a  
summoning in a strange tongue.  
  
"Sakoheni-li!"  
  
Usagi's gaze met a small winged creature which glided effortlessly to  
Aaran's gauntleted arm. She retrieved a miniature note from its leg,  
and upon reading it, set it free with a whispered phrase:  
  
"Corr cheni. Ska!" She then bowed deeply two the gathered three, and  
set off towards the war borne town.  
  
'What did she say Carl?'  
  
'Sakoheni is the family name of the house she serves. Li is "come."  
Corr cheni roughly translates to "go home," and ska is "hurry." She is  
speaking the family tongue...'  
  
'A mage's language!' Usagi snapped, whirling with white fire in her  
clenched fists and sparkling eyes towards Carl. 'I'm going with her.'  
  
'No, Usagi-san. The plan is very delicate and...' he blinked, the  
realization quickly dawning that he could no longer detect her  
presence. 'Usagi?! You can't do this! Ami is depending on you!'  
  
'Carl, she's asking me to say "It's nothing you haven't already  
figured out. Besides... you can't force me." Before you ask, I don't  
know where she is.'  
  
:Usako! What are you doing?:  
  
:It's really simple. There are demons out there, and I have to kill  
them. Got it?:  
  
:Uh... I guess. What about Ami?; was his less than calm reply, knowing  
he could only fail in an arguement with her.  
  
:Don't worry about that. I'll be there when you need me. That's real  
simple too, but I don't expect you to understand:  
  
:It's not about understanding, Usagi. He loves you; Aaran interjected.  
:Even I get that. Well, if you are going to tag along, then hurry up,  
and stay close!:  
  
:Hai; she agreed.  
  
'Ultimately she is correct. I cannot coerce her into an action not of  
her own agency. Come Mamoru, we will discuss Ami's alteration. Usagi,  
I imagine, is powerful enough to take care of herself.'  
  
'She's changed so much... I don't know if I'll ever get used to it,'  
Mamoru groaned.  
  
'Mayhap... though are not the ways of women mysterious and fantastic?  
Perhaps that is why they intrigue us so vastly.'  
  
'Uh, yeah...'  
  
---  
  
:Ayana!; Usagi rasped mentally. :Makoto's little girl? Grown? I don't  
get it...:  
  
The young red-headed woman flicked her head about, as though a  
suggestion of a presence had glimmered aside her. With a frown, she  
glanced downwards, before returning her gaze to the silver armoured  
man among those of the court. Her dark dress of short skirt, grey  
leggings, headband, and hefty armor of legs and arms appointed her the  
squire of the Knight. A pretty young woman, who seemed ill at ease in  
the presence of royalty.  
  
:What?! I thought Ayana was with Makoto!; Aaran blurted skeptically.  
:Are you sure?:  
  
"Please, Sir Knight, call me Arthur."  
  
:Undeniably. Her power reads the same, but it's much higher...:  
  
The young man bowed deeply, the short black lengths of his hair  
unshifting.  
  
"If it is your lord's wish."  
  
Arthur smiled faintly.  
  
"Your exploits are well heard. It takes considerable skill to dispatch  
those beasts as you have done."  
  
:It also seems to require a bloodthirsty blade as well; the recipient  
sighed internally.  
  
"And your squire..." he indicated to her that she should step away,  
and without hesitation, she complied. "It is important to nurture her  
skills, her... ability. Also, have you kept in mind to respect her  
interests in you?"  
  
"I'm afraid I understand you not," qouth the undeniably nervous  
Knight.  
  
"Nay...? Sir..." he paused, searching for a name.  
  
"Sir Lording, my liege. Narayan, if it so pleases you."  
  
"Narayan, then. Can you see it not? Her pleasure as you have ascended  
so abruptly? She cares for you. To have earned the concern and  
feelings of one such as her... a point worth attention, no doubt."  
  
"No doubt," he agreed half-heartedly as Usagi traced his gaze to the  
young woman, her eyes intent upon him. Ayana could not belay the sharp  
anxiousness and curiosity stemming from within, and immediately, Usagi  
became aware of Narayan's sense of her beauty. As if he was seeing her  
as a young woman rather than a girl. An instant later, embarrassment  
flashed across her cheeks, and she turned her burning eyes away. The  
young man once again faced the emotional revelator.  
  
"You are a very perceptive man, my King. I am afraid I failed to  
notice. I have been distracted by the war, as you have said. Thank you  
for informing me. Is that all, my Lord?"  
  
"Were I you, and plainly I am not, I would become less 'distracted.'  
As for her... talents, know you well, or might have you a question or  
three?'  
  
"I will not trouble his Lordship with such a trifling matter. I wish  
not to disturb you any longer. May I be dismissed? I have preparations  
for the battle tonight to make."  
  
"Indeed. Fare you well good knight. May Phate smile upon us."  
  
"May she indeed, and may you stay safe m'lord. I will be by your  
side," he bowed deeply. "It is in my blood. It is in my name."  
  
With a nod fell their dismissal, and as they departed, the arrival of  
Aaran.  
  
"Sir Lording!"  
  
He blanched, and nigh clumsily about-faced to meet the voice.  
  
"I know you not!" he snapped, unsettled. "State your business or be on  
your way."  
  
Aaran simply produced a silver-white pendent with a family crest upon  
it.  
  
"I am but a humble messenger, Sir Knight."  
  
"Aye then," he coughed and swallowed. "What message have you?"  
  
"It is the wishes of your house that you should represent them in the  
war. They have sent you a small token of men with which to battle."  
  
"How many?"  
  
The woman's eyes flitted to Ayana, who shrunk behind Narayan.  
  
"Two thousand men. I am sorry to say that they are not well trained.  
The house suffers ill funds. The taxes have taken their toll."  
  
"Are they ready for battle?"  
  
"Barely. They wear light leather armour, wield cheaply wrought swords  
and shields, and hold only a months training in the summer's scorching  
light."  
  
"Are they ready for battle!?" he demanded impatiently.  
  
:Impudent brat!; Aaran snapped harshly in thought alone as a  
dangerously intolerant glare soured her face. :If I wasn't here to  
save your thick skull, I'd hack it off!: Despite these inner decrees,  
her face softened, and her tone, when offered, was gentle.  
  
"They can fight, aye, Sir Knight."  
  
"Come then. We will attend them."  
  
As they proceeded, Usagi gauged the older Ayana, pressing her  
mentally, attempting to gain a sense of her ability.  
  
:Usagi-san? Is that you?:  
  
Such was her shock that she tumbled over her intangible self, bringing  
Ayana to a halt, and calling attention to the entirely imperceivable  
matter.  
  
"Ayana? What is it? We must proceed apace! The men wait," Narayan  
iterated pleasantly, a dark patch of unrest serving as an undertone.  
  
:Are you alright? I'm sorry if I startled you!; Ayana apologized, not  
giving Narayan his due.  
  
Usagi brushed her transparent body off as she stumbled to her feet.  
  
:I'm fine! How did you know? I mean... Carl couldn't even sense me...:  
  
"Ayana!"  
  
She spun on one foot, facing him with a puzzled expression.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Didn't you hear me?" he frowned.  
  
"Nay, I'm sorry. Aren't they waiting at the Silver Blade? Shouldn't we  
get going?"  
  
Narayan sighed loudly. "Aye, they are."  
  
:I'm sorry. Where were we?:  
  
:I don't remember. Um... so how'd you end up with this kid?:  
  
:Kid? You mean Sir Lording?:  
  
:Hai:  
  
:It was prearranged. Phate is healing Mama-san while I'm away:  
  
:What?! What happened to her?:  
  
:Uh... nothing:  
  
Usagi glared at her, winding her fists into balls.  
  
:Who hurt Makoto?:  
  
:It doesn't matter; Ayana admonished, abruptly nervous. :She's okay.  
Really!:  
  
:It does to me! Tell me!; Usagi flared, a light forming in her hands  
as her power spiked aside her ascending rage.  
  
:She's going to be fine! Usagi-san... don't! You're attracting  
attention!:  
  
Aaran had, indeed, redirected her gaze to the emotionally and  
dramatically empowered woman, as had several others as they had  
approached the aforementioned inn. Narayan faced the semi-opaque  
Usagi, poised and eager to fight.  
  
"Demon! Behold Sir Lording, slayer of demons and your end! Stand ye  
back from my squire!" Narayan declared, drawing a seven foot blade  
from his back to leer over the unimpressed woman. "Harken to my  
command lest I entreat your annihilation!"  
  
"Sir Lording! No!!" Ayana desperately wailed.  
  
"What are you saying, brat?" Usagi growled, assuming a stance of  
trained defense and dropping the waning facade of invisibility. "Are  
you trying to say you want to fight? Okay. Bring it."  
  
"'Tis no use, this creature is as stubborn as the wicked sea! I shall  
have to banish this lovely yet evil creature!"  
  
The blade fell with a swiftness nigh inconceivable, and was met by a  
steady hand, reflecting its fatally segmenting force. Usagi grinned.  
The blade, through each strike, haboured a faint sapphire light, a  
visual echo of every movement.  
  
:Bloody hell...; Aaran cursed, standing stunned, as Ayana, uncertain  
of how to avert further disaster, if even possible...  
  
"Natole!"  
  
The female tones expressed such discord, surprise, and outright fear  
that the small gathering crowd, both combatants halting,  
simultaneously faced the direction of the vocal proclamation.  
  
"Ami?!" Usagi started, silver light spinning in balled fists. The  
curvaceous blue locked woman donned a classy sexy dress of deep sea  
sapphire, offering only frightened glances.  
  
"Why'd you follow me Usagi? Why?"  
  
The reply was tremulous at best, scattered, and vague.  
  
"I wanted... Mamoru and I... we... Luna, um..." she swallowed, tearful  
eyes shining. "The senshi need you!"  
  
Sir Lording's gaze hardened reflexively.  
  
"I d-don't know nothin' 'bout n-n-no demons, witch," she nigh  
stammered. Thunderous steps introduced a masculine mountain of muscle,  
a twelve foot rock face of testosterone power into the verbal  
battlefront.  
  
"Natole!" Sarah whimpered, taking his thick forearm in her slender  
arms, "she wants Shyanne!"  
  
A wash of frightened gasps fell across the small crowd like a  
threatening tsunami as the Half-Giant scowled darkly.  
  
"I am One-Punch," he declared in a drawling bassoon voice. He opened  
his tree trunk of a free hand, and an iron staff appeared within reach  
of his massive fingers. Usagi instinctively recoiled.  
  
"Called so with good reason. You," he deftly demolished an empty iron  
wine keg, then placed the blunt tip of the brutal fourteen foot weapon  
inches from Usagi's flared nostrils and wary, anxietous eyes. "Stay  
away ye from my wife, lest I flatten ye."  
  
Usagi, without hesitation, bowed and respectfully stated:  
  
"Aye. Coril so sa lynn."  
  
Respect to the Order.  
  
...and was then gone.  
  
Sir Lording made his efforts in the dispersal of the crowd, cursing  
himself the futility of the battle.  
  
:Usagi?; Ayana's uncertain mind tones rang freely, receiving no  
response.  
  
:We are alone, Ayana. Usagi's back with Mamoru; Aaran affirmed,  
entreating Sarah's attention. She hesitated briefly as Natole glared  
down upon her for a moment, before Sarah bid him calm.  
  
"I'm okay sweetie," she urged, caressing his thick hand  
subconsciously.  
  
"What do you remember?"  
  
Sarah shook her head, squinting, thoughts vague.  
  
"She... the witch tried to steal my little girl before we came here.  
Did..." here was a frightened, prescheduled pause. "Did she summon  
those dreadful white cats? They've vacated half the populace."  
  
Aaran gazed at her sharply, inquisitive.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
Sarah - Ami's amnesia balking - blinked, a detached expression holding  
her slender facial arrangement.  
  
"Well, observation indicates that the number of felines doubled when  
she arrived here. Now that she's departed, the total is decreasing  
rapidly."  
  
"So...?"  
  
She frowned as if it were self-evident.  
  
"They're following her. That's the only reasonable conclusion."  
  
"So you could follow her?"  
  
Her eyes rolled in consideration.  
  
"Sure," she shrugged. "Why you'd want to though... Yeah. It could be  
done."  
  
"Why all the combustible cats? Besides the horror factor," Sir Lording  
queried curtly.  
  
"That's precisely it though, you see? No people equal inequitable  
land. Felcor is worthless without the magic and economy of the  
Felynx," she elaborated, unblinking. "It would win the war for the  
enemy. The Felynx cannot fight without supplies, and a supportive  
social structure."  
  
Aaran nodded.  
  
:Sharp girl:  
  
:So this is what my Aunt Ami is like; Ayana smiled. :Isn't she a  
scientist or something?:  
  
"Well, no. I'm studying to be a doctor, actually. Though I still have  
a long way to go," Ami blurted with a blush, her mousey posture  
momentarily breaching the sundry guise of her fragmented mind. The  
moment fled, and she blanched, bursting into great gasping sobs as she  
ran from the scene, leaving the remaining participants stunned.  
  
Natole swiftly, for a several hundred pound creature, pursued Sarah,  
belaying the others with his mere action, and the intimidation of his  
incredible presense.  
  
Yet it no longer mattered. She was still in there somewhere,  
terrified, the very same Ami, a victim of this twisted weaving. She  
was split, in fact, a fragment of her scarred consciousness living for  
her when she could not otherwise survive.  
  
"Ayana, go see what..."  
  
"No Sir Lording," she negated oh-so gently.  
  
"Listen, she knows about the demons... I want you to..."  
  
"Respectfully, I can't do it. She's scared! I'm scared! Please, don't  
push her. Zen lass, sein tol."  
  
Forgive me, my lord.  
  
The annoyed look immediately faded as he gazed at her.  
  
"Of course," he smiled softly. "Of course, girl. I'll simply contact  
my sister." 


	31. Misused Tempers, Turtles, and Sparrows

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 30: Misused Tempers, Turtles, and Sparrows  
  
She was ready. The entire week and been invested in something which  
wouldn't last more than ten minutes, but she was prepared. She  
smoothed out the long skirt of her formal dress, smiling at the feel  
of the cotton.  
  
:Worth every yen; she thought, quite pleased. :I'll definitely make a  
good impression:  
  
Her tail twitched, and feline ears swiveled about the bedroom, having  
heard the faint swooshing of unfamiliar movement.  
  
:No one else is up yet; she reminded herself as she exited her bedroom  
and stepped out onto the carpeted landing at the base of the stairwell  
leading up. :Well, maybe...:  
  
'Sashi! Are you downstairs?'  
  
She strode hesitantly towards the kitchen, her clawed hands falling  
into an instinctive position of defense. She plainly heard a drawer  
slide open, and then shut, as padded feet slid across the laminate  
towards her.  
  
'Xalia!' she cried as her friend appeared suddenly, clasping her hands  
to her chest as her heart nearly took leave of her body. 'You scared  
me! Why didn't you knock? I've been up since five, I would have heard  
you!'  
  
The young brunette smiled, her hands clasped firmly behind her back as  
her friend's eyes traveled down the strange uniform. Upon moving  
upwards again, she noticed the unusual gleam of a collar which  
appeared to have foreign engravings in it. She tore her eyes away from  
it with some effort.  
  
'Where did you get those funky clothes from? Did Kei give them to  
you?'  
  
'Kei?' she repeated slowly, nearing her. 'No Asa, not from Kei. You  
like them?'  
  
She blinked, not sure if she really did.  
  
'Uh, yeah, they're, uh... really weird. Like military or something...  
um... What are you doing here so early? Didn't I say we should meet at  
seven? At the school?'  
  
'Oh,' she replied, 'right. I remember. Seven. At the school.'  
  
Asa gave her an "what are you on?" look, and took her shoulder,  
leading her towards the living room.  
  
'Forget it. I'll make breakfast. You can just take your weirded out  
self and get comfortable. The Playstation has Motocross in it.'  
  
'Oh, I'm not hungry, thanks.'  
  
'Then why are you here? Forget your question sheet? I can print out  
another copy if you want...' she turned, and headed towards her room.  
'That's what you get for dragging your... Uk!'  
  
Xalia regarded her unemotionally as Asa turned around, her face  
chalk-white, eyes wide, mouth gaping. She stumbled backwards, reaching  
for something at her back, then staggered over to the couch, over  
which she fell, motionless, and no longer quite so puzzled. The  
shadowling extracted the blade from her back, then plunged it into the  
back of the gurgling girl's neck, where it was left.  
  
'Sorry Asa, but you're just in the way,' Xalia began, gesturing  
towards Asa's room. Asa's eyes rolled uselessly, something in her mind  
clicking just hard enough to realize she was dying. Her brown eyes  
caught the movement of the shadow-being tearing through her bedroom,  
dimly realizing what it might be searching for.  
  
'Trust can be deceptive, but it's not your fault,' she continued,  
gazing at the beast as it turned up empty handed. 'It's just the way  
things are.'  
  
The young girl, someone's former bundle of joy, expired with a faint  
breath as Xalia turned, muttering:  
  
'One down, three to go...'  
  
---  
  
She straggled into the dojo, ill-prepared, though hardly willing to  
admit it. The whole night had been spent in the interest of the debate  
to come. She hated them. It was not a matter of inability on her part,  
she was certainly intelligent enough to participate in a logical  
argument. The toughest part was avoiding anger. It was so much easier  
just to use physical demonstration to illustrate her intention.  
  
It just came so naturally.  
  
She could hardly see a problem with it. The method had preserved her  
for most of her life. Knowing that she could not, at least, not in  
school, not with the Kei-san present (at the very least), made her job  
that much more awkward. Stooping to fetch an escapee book from the  
column of a dozen in her arms, she startled as someone bumped into  
her. With a stark snarl upon her face as the stack tumbled freely to  
the floor, she faced her impending opponent. Her ire was pacified as  
she noted the presence to be a friend.  
  
'Uh, good morning Masurani-chan,' the red-headed Asian girl stated  
softly in Japanese, smiling weakly and stooping to assist her. 'Gomen  
nasai!'  
  
'That's okay,' she sighed, her voice heavy with the tension  
aforementioned. She collected a few books, then accepted the remainder  
the young woman handed her.  
  
'You look tired,' she said, rocking slightly on the balls of her feet.  
  
'Hai Ayla-chan,' she replied caustically. 'I was training late. My  
sensei insisted I finish the new technique...'  
  
'What? I thought you...' she gasped. 'Isn't black belt enough?'  
  
Masurani glanced about, her sky blue shoulder length hair shifting  
with the motion, noting immediately that they were the only students  
unseated. She headed off towards the nearest pair of empty spots.  
Easily done, since the rotunda was sparsely populated. Once the  
situation was remedied, she sternly replied:  
  
'No.'  
  
Ayla blinked at her.  
  
'Come on. I know you want to make it in, but don't you think it's a  
little much?'  
  
'No way.'  
  
Ayla's eyebrow arched at that. Leaving her thoughts unspoken, she  
turned to the task at hand.  
  
'My sensei says self improvement is always worthwhile,' the blue  
haired girl continued. 'There's still so much to learn!'  
  
'Yeah, like he put it that way. Probably said something like: "Never  
stop training, 'cause you won't know who might come along to whip your  
butt." Right?'  
  
She laughed. 'Close.'  
  
'So anyway, who are you paired with?' Ayla asked gently, seeming to  
ignore that statement, skimming over her notes.  
  
'Naritha Hylaow, some little Chinese mouse,' Masurani stated with a  
derisive snort. Ayla gave a half frown at that.  
  
'She's quiet, but she's smart, so don't underestimate her,' she  
suggested. 'Remember the first time you tried to out talk me?'  
  
Masurani smiled and nodded, 'Hai. I finally got you in the sparring  
match afterwards. What about you? Who are you with?'  
  
'Haisha Walynn,' she glanced up at the stage, half listening to the  
already sparring voices.  
  
'I'm not sure if I like her, she gets so angry so easily,' was the  
terse observation.  
  
'Remind you of someone you know?' Ayla parried simply, gazing at her  
friend to drive her point.  
  
'Oh thanks,' she groaned. 'I'm way calmer than she is. Why? What do  
you think of her?'  
  
She considered the next combination of words over the course of an  
inwardly drawn breath, then set them free.  
  
'I think she's way too loud to be very tough...' Ayla replied, a  
distant look wandering into her eyes. "...I guess."  
  
Masurani looked nonplused for a moment.  
  
'Um, it doesn't matter. There's something else I need to talk to you  
about,' she began, her face drawn tightly by some unseen stress.  
'Nasura-san may not honor our kinship.'  
  
'What! But that's not her choice! ...is it?' she glanced nervously up  
at the short redhead in matching business suit of sports coat and  
skirt. 'I mean... um... what does it mean?'  
  
'It means they won't take any special considerations concerning  
missions, or tactics. It also means they won't provide the traditional  
armor and training.'  
  
Masurani groaned loudly. 'Great. Not only do I have to argue on stage  
today, but I learn that I'm hooped for kinship rites. Bloody frickin'  
wonderful.'  
  
'Gen Asa!' was the name abruptly issued.  
  
Masurani blinked at the false start, sitting back down. She glanced  
around at the lack of responsive movement.  
  
'Gen Asa!'  
  
Ayla looked nonplused at her friend, shrugging her slender shoulders.  
  
'It's not like her to skip,' Masurani noted seriously.  
  
'I always kind of thought she was a flake,' Ayla replied with a  
chuckle. 'I mean, she's part cat. I don't know very many cats that  
care about punctuality.'  
  
'Last call for Gen Asa!'  
  
The blue haired girl gave her a serious look.  
  
'This is important to her.'  
  
'How do you know? Oh,' she smirked. 'Sparring partner.'  
  
'Among others,' she replied, lacking a usually appropriate grin.  
  
'What will happen?'  
  
'What?'  
  
'To her debate partner?'  
  
'I dunno. Maybe they'll just stick her with someone else who skipped,  
but this bothers me,' she muttered worriedly. 'Isanu didn't show up to  
class this morning either.'  
  
'Really? Wow, maybe she slept in!' Ayla laughed.  
  
Masurani regarded her with a stern glare.  
  
'Come on Ayla! It's not like being a KnightsMage is important or  
anything!' she retorted, seeming quite upset by the entire matter.  
  
'Gomen. You're right, but I think we should just focus on making the  
team. It won't hurt us really if they blow it by not showing up.  
Especially since we can't help it.'  
  
She looked further ill at ease, then bowed her head and sighed.  
  
'I suppose.'  
  
'Sarle Masurani and Hylaow Naritha!'  
  
'Oh shoot!' she blinked, recalling something abruptly. 'Masu-chan,  
this will determine our placement and rank. So try not to lose your  
temper.'  
  
'Oh great! Arigoto!' she huffed, tossing her arms up. 'You could have  
told me afterwards.'  
  
She muttered tersely under her breath as she took a dozen palm sized  
cards from the top of her seated books as she left to face grim vocal  
combat.  
  
---  
  
Only further unsettled, fingers tightly curled about the fragile edges  
of the podium, Masurani growled at her debate opponent mere moments  
past the point of no return.  
  
'Bloody hell he doesn't! The child is his flippin' fault, he can't  
shirk on his responsibility!'  
  
Naritha, a young woman just on the edge on childhood, long blue and  
silver streaked hair adorning her gentle and forgivingly attractive  
features, held a barely confident expression, to match that of her  
donned apparel: A loose khaki blouse and matching skirt of deep brown.  
  
'To disband such relationship not a crime... um, punishable in law.  
Were she underage...' she stated clearly, her voice laden with a thick  
Chinese accent.  
  
'Disband?! It's not a military establishment! It's his bloody fault!'  
  
Ayla shook her head with an embarrased laugh, watching her drowning  
companion on stage.  
  
'There are, um... laws to protect mother... and to determine his...'  
she cursed faintly in her native tongue, searching for a word she  
could not find. 'Uhnm, ahh... oh! Accountability.'  
  
Masurani's fingers clutched the podium with such force that the edges  
cracked, bringing an uncomfortable look to her face, and a shocked one  
to her opponent.  
  
'I... oh mercy Goddess,' she whispered faintly, fear briefly flashing  
behind her eyes. 'I forfeit!'  
  
'Hai! Enough!' the presiding Kei barked, glaring starkly at Masurani.  
'Return to your seats.'  
  
Trembling vaguely as she departed, she replied a fearful 'what did I  
do wrong?' glance to Masurani, who winced, and plunked herself down  
heavily beside Ayla in the bleachers.  
  
'That was wrong! You scared her into forfeit!' Ayla stated, gazing  
sharply at her friend. 'She didn't deserve that!'  
  
'I don't... I didn't mean...' she gathered her apologetic feelings and  
held them aside. 'I don't usually fly off the handle like that. You  
know me.'  
  
'Hai,' she sighed, falling into silence and watching the next pair of  
verbal warriors. A moment later, she faced her friend with knitted  
brows, and declared: 'That's no good to me. Tell her that. Apologize.'  
  
Masurani glared at her knees, after which her softening eyes met  
Ayla's.  
  
'She probably thinks I'm going to pound her,' she smirked selflessly.  
  
'Not funny.' Ayla frowned pointedly, 'Your reputation precedes you,  
neh?'  
  
'Uh, yeah...' she responded uncomfortably, gaze fallen. 'I'll be back  
in a couple minutes, okay?'  
  
Masurani had to wonder why Naritha stood rather than fled when she  
approached. Perhaps she had more guts than she had first determined.  
Or, perhaps she was just open to peaceful relations.  
  
'Hi,' Masurani half growled unconsciously in Japanese. Guilt overtook  
her an instant later. 'Oh damn! Gomen nasai Naritha-chan! I didn't  
mean to freak out on you on stage there I was panicked I'm really bad  
at debates and I just...'  
  
Naritha nodded expectantly.  
  
She blinked, somewhat stunned, then took a deep breath as she placed  
her hands together palm to palm and bowed dramatically at the waist.  
'...I got angry. It's been such a rough week with all the training...  
Twenty-four-seven regiments since Nasura-san called alarm. I was mean.  
Really mean. Gomen.'  
  
Naritha's eyes whirled for a moment, after which point she smiled, and  
proffered her hand.  
  
'[Nihao!] I'm Waylnn Naritha,' she smiled.  
  
Dumbfounded, Masurani gazed puzzled at the girl for a moment, before  
returning her smile, and shaking her hand.  
  
'Uh, [nihao], I guess... um, I'm Sarle Masurani,' she replied, taking  
this as a truce.  
  
'Can be...' her face locked in dubious consideration, '...friends?'  
Her pleasant expression instantly darkening in expectation of refusal.  
  
:Is she manipulating me?!; Masurani thought, strangely mollified by  
the idea. :So what if she is? I think I like her. She's... nice:  
  
'Um, I guess. Why don't we go correct the result of our debate. You  
were way more clear headed, and I can just drop it if you want. You  
deserve it.'  
  
Naritha glanced at the raised oak stage, and Masurani's gazed followed  
immediately.  
  
'Your friend already doing.'  
  
Masurani sighed, exasperated. Though, even as she watched, her  
torrential feelings washed away, and she felt herself turn and slip  
into conversation with Naritha, who it turned out, stumbled less  
frequently in speech when comfortable.  
  
'Aren't many people here today,' Masurani remarked softly.  
  
Naritha nodded curtly.  
  
'Hai, I see this. Nasura Kei-san said only final girls here. None  
other.'  
  
'Oh. You mean the finalists? You mean we're it?'  
  
'Hai,' she said with a blink. 'If you are chose, what will do?'  
  
'I want to be the senshi of strength,' rolling her eyes with a warm  
smile. 'Obviously, it's what I'm good at.'  
  
'Hai. Yet, there are two. What will be other?'  
  
'I dunno, I never really thought about it. I guess it would have to be  
stamina, I'm fast, but not fast enough to qualifiy for speed. What  
about you?'  
  
'I will be heart and soul. I not fight like you.'  
  
'Like me? You do fight?' Masurani quested, interested.  
  
'Violence hurt many. I wish not cause pain. Fighting necessary, but  
very unfortunate,' she replied, avoiding Masurani's direct gaze.  
  
'What style? I was taught a combination... it's a little much to get  
into.'  
  
'Te. I trained from very young to master.'  
  
'Very. I understand it's a very unique form. Uhm,' she hesitated, the  
question forthcoming awkward, 'when we argued up there, your Japanese  
was better...'  
  
Her eyes rolled prettily in consideration, and she reached into a  
pocket and pulled out her prompt cards.  
  
'My writing much... as you say... better than my speech. I speak  
English too, but very worse,' she replied softly, watching the  
movement of Masurani's hands. 'I see you fight. I see you with friend.  
You spar, you win.'  
  
'I fight hard, and train harder. Becoming a KnightsMage is very  
important to me,' Masurani stated seriously, dropping her clenched  
hands.  
  
'What style you train?' she inquired, leaning forward slightly as she  
toyed with a rallied length of hair at her shoulder.  
  
'Many things. I've been training under Nakio, and a friend of my  
Mama's. Mostly it's Silver Light stuff, though I have received some  
tutoring from the Shirinaui School,' she stated, her eyes casting over  
Naritha, shifting occasionally to the stage, where some of the elders  
had started to gather. 'Mostly energy channeling, you know.'  
  
'You train Silver clan when not together?' she queried gently.  
  
'I've been training long before the Silver clan dissolved. And since.'  
  
The young woman - nigh girl, in appearance - nodded with a serious  
look.  
  
'What other...' she blushed suddenly. 'Pardon my inquisi... um,  
inquisitivity.'  
  
Masurani smiled, respite.  
  
'Don't worry about it. It's nice to have someone to talk to about the  
martial arts. Ayla... my other friend... she's not a passionate about  
it as I am.'  
  
'Hai... I see. Your friend have much natural grace. She... star on  
foot?'  
  
Masurani looked befuddled for a moment, after which the statement  
clicked.  
  
'You mean "light on her feet," right?'  
  
Naritha bowed her head with a giggle.  
  
'Hai. She seem faster than you.'  
  
'She is, when I go normal... uh, um... Power is my thing.'  
  
'As humble Master of Te, I learn never be hit, and not strike until  
last cause.'  
  
'I don't think I could ever do that... just stand there and let some  
guy swing at me, even if he wasn't making contact...'  
  
'What mean, when say 'go normal'?'  
  
Masurani averted her eyes.  
  
'It's hard to explain. When I fight, I have two modes, mostly, normal  
is when I fight ordinary people. I can increase my speed by focusing  
chi. Problem is I burn off some major enegy when I do that. It's kinda  
dangerous, but a real trip.'  
  
'Ah, I see...' she muttered distantly, somewhat set aside verbally by  
her near ramble. 'Do what must do. If not, no say what might lose.  
Home, planet, life. To choose, is not our cho.. um, choice, hm? But  
what you say is not so strange. I learn to work with water and chi.'  
She adjusted her skirt absently. 'Mostly, I sense evil, heal, and  
protect.'  
  
Masurani nodded, an unelaborated thought restless in her mind.  
  
'There is more?'  
  
A pleasant smile warmed her face. 'I wasn't going to get into it  
unless you asked...'  
  
---  
  
'Looks like you've got yourself a new friend,' Ayla smiled warmly as  
Masurani accompanied her out of the hall.  
  
'Yeah. She's much tougher than she looks! Can you believe she's a  
master of Te?' Masurani gushed, still quite impressed.  
  
'What's Te?'  
  
The short turquoise haired young woman prepared an astounded look,  
which she tossed quickly at her friend.  
  
'The Chinese developed it decades ago during the war, when they were  
banned from using weapons. It's a deadly hands only martial art. I'd  
have a bloody hard time trying to beat her in combat. In slow mode,  
anyway.'  
  
'She looked so hurt though! If she knew...'  
  
'Naritha's a pacifist. One of the big things about Te is avoiding  
fighting. That's the first focus of the style. Defense,' Masurani  
stated, facing her locker, applying her hands to the bound storage  
unit. 'She's such a sweetheart. What are your plans?'  
  
'I know,' Ayla acknowledged, opening her locker with a clink. 'Well,  
actually, I was going to invite you to Aunt Mai's.'  
  
Masurani smiled plainly. 'Would you mind if I invited Naritha?'  
  
Ayla looked surprised.  
  
'Okay, where's Masurani? What've you done with her!' she mock snapped.  
  
Masurani could only laugh.  
  
'Well, she shouldn't mind. I mean, the dojo is open to the public...'  
  
'Not to mention she's a KnightsSquire...' Ayla laughed. 'Of course.  
Don't worry about it.'  
  
Slipping a knapsack over her shoulder, Masurani commented:  
  
'Turns out she's also half Japanese.'  
  
'So?' Ayla replied dryly.  
  
'She's got some Japanese blood in her family, and...'  
  
'That's not what I asked. What does it matter that she's any part  
Japanese?' she snarled vaguely.  
  
'I...'  
  
A sigh akin to a hiss escaped Ayla's lips.  
  
'I don't believe this! You know my Mama-san taught me not to  
disrespect others because of their family background!'  
  
'Hai, but she's Canadian.'  
  
Ayla growled angrily at that.  
  
'Masurani!'  
  
Masurani looked abruptly apologetic.  
  
'Um, I... Ayla-chan, your Mama-san is an honorable and kind woman.  
I...' her eyes fell. 'I just meant that she's used to all the  
different cultures and I'm not.'  
  
'That's no excuse. There are just as many prejudices here as anywhere  
else. It just happens that our cultural focus is the Chinese. Not that  
we have to follow that.'  
  
Masurani's eyes trailed along the floor as they proceeded from the  
verbal blast site.  
  
'Masurani the Master of Morality strikes again,' she chided herself.  
'I guess we'll be eating separately?'  
  
'Um,' Ayla looked astonished. 'Well, we need to discuss our senshi  
outfit designs. Unless you're going to refuse Mama's invitation?' she  
grinned.  
  
'No Ayla-chan...' she half whispered. 'So sorry! I like her... I  
just...'  
  
'Just what?'  
  
'They're just so...'  
  
'"Just" nothing! How many Japanese people have you known are the same  
as the next?' Her red eyebrows curled downward tersely.  
  
'Well, none, really...' her eyes flailed to the doors leading to the  
outside world, embarrassed and disgraced, as they passed through them.  
  
'Why do you think another culture should be any different?'  
  
There were several turnings of a glossy black feminine silhouette  
before Masurani spoke again.  
  
'I don't know. I guess... Dad never really... he didn't like the  
Chinese very much.'  
  
Ayla only nodded, noting the darkening of the sky as a flow of  
harrowing clouds drew over them.  
  
'It's simply a matter of respect. "Eye for an eye, tooth for a  
tooth."' Ayla elaborated plainly, 'Just think about it, neh?'  
  
'Uh, yeah,' she sighed, betwixt feelings of guilt and honor.  
  
---  
  
'There isn't much to mine,' she noted, pulling the dark blue weighted  
armlets over her wrists. Her orange gi traveled loosely over her  
distinctly curvaceous form, belted at the waist, laden with heavy,  
thick dark blue boots, and where the neckline plunged, a dark grey  
weighted tunic covered any discounting view.  
  
'"School of the turtle sect,"' Osaka read. 'Is he collaborating with  
Mai at all?'  
  
'No. He said he doesn't want to confuse my training,' she replied with  
an indifferent shrug. 'I don't know if I want to take on any more than  
this. It's hard enough as is.'  
  
'"School of the Sparrow,"' Ayla grunted. 'Nakio never suggested the  
use of weighted clothing like you've got! Though... I'm not much of a  
fighter.'  
  
'I dunno about that,' Masurani replied. 'You may not be as tough as  
me, but you're pretty frickin' fast. But then, you're a brain. Helluva  
lot smarter'n me. It's what we're good at. Doesn't have to be the same  
thing.'  
  
'Hai. It's just that I don't, well... you enjoy it! I do it because  
there's no other way.'  
  
'I buy that,' Masurani replied, 'and you can go ahead and call me  
stupid! Whatever, Ayla-chan. You might not go for it like I do, but  
you wouldn't at all if you didn't get a kick out of it a bit.'  
  
'Oh, really punny. I don't though! I mean, sure, I like the idea of  
actually being able to defend myself, but I'd rather not fight,' she  
elaborated, practicing several streamlined motions of ken, the  
smoothness betraying the grace of a dance. 'I'm no white rabbit. On  
the other hand, wild cats spend most of their lives sleeping. I would  
love to be that relaxed that much of the time!'  
  
'I never enjoyed violence much either baby,' Osaka admonished  
wistfully. 'Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Why don't you two  
wash up.'  
  
'Sure, me too,' Masurani smirked. 'Though mine hardly recommended the  
use of books.'  
  
The Apollo house spoke calmly, though pointedly, and plainly. As did  
those who dwelled in it. Ayla knew that Masurani was not one for  
words, and wondered exactly how intelligent this young half-Japanese  
girl was. Another intellectual sparring partner would hardly hurt her.  
Of course, the hope of finding a new friend struck her as well. As  
Ayla's thoughts nearly simultaneously carved this path of thoughts,  
the rapid, dull beating of a miniscule bell battled for her attention.  
  
'Ayla! Phone!'  
  
She sat forward on her bed and grasped the top of a deep black cat  
shaped phone, and drew the receiver to her ear.  
  
'Hai - Ayla. Oh, hai... No, Masurani's kinda busy... And no, that's  
tonight... it's my Aunt, Naritha,' a pause. 'We'll have the whole  
weekend.' Another. 'Yeah. I don't know if you'll want to show them  
up!' she laughed. Instantly, her face darkened. 'No, um, that's not  
what I... no, that's fine. Forget it.' Yet another drawling silence.  
'You know where the "Yarrow Temple" is? Right. Just at the end of the  
street. Big white building, can't miss it. We're being picked up at  
six.' She glanced at Masurani with a bemused smile. 'We've been  
friends for years... since... what?' A further gaping quiet. 'No  
problem. Sure. I'll see you then. Bye.'  
  
The click of the receiver drew Masurani's idle question forth.  
  
'What?'  
  
'She's talkative for a mouse!' she replied, sitting back.  
  
'It's just a matter of finding the right people to talk to...' Osaka  
pointed out, poking her head inside the door. 'Dinner's ready. Why  
don't you to come down and eat before Naritha gets here.'  
  
'We should have time to spar before we go, right?' Masurani asked  
hopefully.  
  
Ayla grinned. 'Hai. I'm looking forward to it.' 


	32. Intervening Forces

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 31: Intervening Forces  
  
:Why are they here?! It's been three bloody years! Why don't they just  
give up?!; the sensual being known as Sapphire Dawn stammered angrily.  
  
:Usagi... she's like... like a sister. She loves us. I can't explain  
it. I know she hates not being able to help us; replied the core of  
her mind, one Ami Mizuno.  
  
:Help? What for? What's she going to do, take us away from Natole and  
bring us back to our friends? Are they even our friends anymore? I  
mean, how wonderful is it that Usagi and Luna were raped... that Rei  
and Mina were forced to engage in sex. Ugh! I say forget it! There's  
nothing but pain for us back there:  
  
Ami found it difficult to marshal an argument, thus encouraging the  
young independent section of her mind to continue:  
  
:And what about us?:  
  
:What about us? Do... do you mean... buh-back at Luh-luh-lone Star?:  
  
:Lone Star? I... no... what's that?...: The voice quelled itself.  
  
"Know you well the reason for your flight. Sapphire has brought  
herself about to save your sanity."  
  
Her comforting voice beckoned long denied tears forth as Ami wrapped  
her arms around an ideally endowed figure offering only motherly love.  
  
"Why does it have to be like this?" she sobbed, blue lengths of hair  
tangling in front of her face. The brunette smiled, and a faint glow  
of respite enshrouding them.  
  
"It is of the Great Weave child. Accept your past... you had no  
control. The blame," her eyes slowly drifted open as she leaned back,  
releasing Ami, "...is not yours. Hold it not! Natole loves you, and  
know that you need not abandon him to rejoin your friends! Let not  
your fear disguise the Holy Truth."  
  
The reasons became transparent. Usagi wanted her... the senshi... the  
Bishojo Sailor Senshi, were a family, a supportive group of intimate  
friends. Tsukino Usagi, the emotionally flickering light, yet somehow  
continually able to muster the strength - the courage - to win over  
consistently unusual and overwhelming odds. Hino Rei, the verbal  
powerhouse, the engine of fury, the sensitive soul, always dependably  
critical. Kino Makoto, the pillar of stamina in moral excellence as  
well as physical prowess, a concerned friend and supportive woman who  
shouldered much for her age.  
  
But then, didn't they all?  
  
Even Aino Minako, the less than chaste but never quite a morally  
bereft woman, despite her attractive looks, charm, fiery  
determination, and more wit than her appearance implied. Luna and  
Artemis, like parents, worrisome and so full of love, offering  
unending guidance in their formidable ordeals.  
  
Surely, without them, the story would have ended before it had begun.  
  
The Sailor Senshi had failed, but in survival, had not abandoned her.  
How to return that love?  
  
"You have only to try," the enigmatic woman stated clearly. "These  
Silver Threads have not been cut. Follow them!"  
  
As the words fell Ami knew herself to be alone, and knew much pain had  
she yet to receive.  
  
"Heretic!"  
  
The door tumbled inwards upon itself like a handful of thrown  
matchsticks as a baker's half dozen Felynx rioters subdued and drew  
the fitful Ami forth among the rallying crowd outside of the Sapphire  
Night Inn. Holding the retaliatory force above their heads, they  
declared her association with the "witch" a trick to betray the town  
to the besieging demons.  
  
Yet no more than a scapegoat to belie the knowledge of loss in battle.  
  
"Her discussion with the senshi-ko witch is proof enough! She must be  
punished for this mortal sin!"  
  
The remaining skeptics soon forgot the truth of the matter: Three  
peaceful years of kindness amongst this woman of beauty, sagacity and  
integrity.  
  
"She must burn!"  
  
"Natole!"  
  
"Burn... burn..."  
  
"Natole!!" she shrieked, the volume rending her throat. Nigh  
impossibly she saw him bound by magic, standing, a being of protective  
rage, so dramatically infuriated...  
  
"Burn... burn...!"  
  
- to hint lightly upon it -  
  
"Burn...! Burn!"  
  
...by his apparent inability to save his threatened beloved. Ami could  
feel the shuddering of earth as his crimson painted fists sought  
freedom through the unseen box that contained him.  
  
"Burn! Burn! Burn! The witch will burn!"  
  
The chant permeated her soul, sending her mind reeling, a  
merry-go-round of unimaginable nightmarish horror.  
  
"Burn! Burn! Burn!"  
  
"Usagi! Save me!!"  
  
"The witch will burn!"  
  
"Usa..."  
  
"See how..."  
  
"Burn! Burn! Burn!"  
  
"...gi! Usagi!"  
  
"...she calls upon the witch now! What do we say?"  
  
"LET HER!!" boomed the crowd. They were prepared! They... the  
ringleader knew to be ready for this!  
  
"Right! Why? So we can..."  
  
A female voice?  
  
"DESTROY HER!"  
  
Consumed by the weight of fear, rage, inner turmoil, and that of her  
recent life, she drew herself apart from the unquestionable feral mare  
of nights.  
  
:Of course there was a ringleader!; Ami thought, and was not surprised  
entirely by the fact that she knew the young woman. A KnightsMage. A  
woman of vacant mercy. A woman who, dressed in the correct dress could  
walk unscathed amongst a furious war and draw it to a sudden halt. An  
obsessive force against all evil, even the slightest trace of Scior's  
mark.  
  
:You lied to me! You used me you bitch!; she snarled in thought,  
knowing she was listening.  
  
:Don't turn me into the enemy you sacreligious witch! I knew you were  
linked to evil somehow. I simply didn't have evidence enough... until  
now:  
  
The crowd had been proceeding slowly towards the town square, and a  
vast emptiness filled her soul...  
  
:What have you done...:  
  
...and stole her reason as they approached an already smoking pyre.  
  
The child wailed in agony and terror, her chained, naked and spread  
eagle figure a soul bending statement of child violence. Her agony  
distorted mortal mask gave vision and voice to the state of her  
shattered legs. The grey wings nigh torn from her shoulders all but  
shined as metal, crimson streaming in stark lines from several  
pockmarked holes where early attempts had failed to grip the muscle.  
  
As the crowd carried Ami nigh, they tugged at her clothes, stealing  
touches and squeezes of her demonically associated body, all respect  
lost, and morals waning. By the time her dress was finally torn free,  
the cuts and welts bled as evidence to the darker natures of mortal  
kind. At one point, there was the suggestion of rape, which - for the  
multitude of Felynx men lustfully inspired iniquitously - would have  
instantly become gangrape, leading to the inevitable death of the  
already tortured young woman.  
  
Yet there was no hesitation, nor question in Sapphine Lording's mind.  
  
Never. No woman deserved such unspeakably vile punishment, not even  
Anasi Witherald, MagesBane slayer of thousands. Sapphine regarded the  
infracting individual with such harshness that he willed himself  
stone, a crestfallen expression his reward for failure. The gold  
highlighted brunette placed her hand on his forehead.  
  
"May Phate be your Light," she uttered coldly.  
  
He died without a sound under the brilliant flash of vicious energy.  
Unblinking, seemingly unemotional, she directed the binding of Ami to  
the luke warm stake.  
  
"Let us destroy this demon servant!" she cried sharply.  
  
A question raised itself from among the synergized crowd.  
  
"Is she not a demon, herself?"  
  
She glowered darkly at the crowd, and stepped towards the soul-scarred  
Ami. With a wicked frown, she pressed her hand to the bound woman's  
stomach. Shyanne's voice had stilled, but instantly came to life,  
echoing her mother's agonized screams as the literally white palm ate  
at her flesh, slowly revealing the dull gleam of metal.  
  
A great, shocked intake of breath momentarily took the throng of  
people as all doubts were quelled.  
  
"See the truth now? This creature comes to us in the attractive guise  
of a Canora golem to tip the war against us! As a demonic summoning,  
it must be banished!"  
  
"Burn burn burn..."  
  
"No! Not before the full cost has been extracted!" Sapphine declared  
against the cacophony of racing tones in seething, tangible hatred.  
"Kill the demon child!"  
  
"NO!!!" Ami screamed nigh hysterically, unsure of the source of  
strength, and concerned nary a wit.  
  
An abrupt shower of vaguely spherical grey missiles produced deafening  
thunking sounds as the first several missed. A rare event in the  
continuous muffled squishing, crunching, and shrieking as Shyanne was  
slowly reduced to stinking meat stapled to the crimsoning stone wall.  
By then, Ami had completely withdrawn, letting the distraught Sarah  
Night (Sapphire Dawn) face a reality so soul shriveling that she would  
have taken her beloved daughter's place, receiving every stone to  
spare her young one's life.  
  
Natole's defeated moaning could be heard for miles, causing a few to  
turn away in unuttered shame. Yet, somehow the massacre of the child  
was not enough to halt the proceedings, or even force them to leave.  
Perhaps they felt too deeply ingrained in the unspeakable carnage,  
knowing that even if they were wrong, what could they do to redeem  
themselves?  
  
In truth, more than half of the Felynx rioters - over eighty mothers,  
fathers and newlyweds (Mate-Joining season just having past) felt to  
turn away and beg their God forgiveness. But each one, fearing  
themselves alone to be taken as a sympathizer, and in admonition under  
the very same threat of execution, found it easier to inspire the  
matter through to the end, so that the guilt could be charred and  
forgotten as Ami.  
  
The fire had begun consuming Ami before Shyanne was quite dead, crying  
feebly to her mother for protection and loving sanctuary. Ami's  
anguished cry as the skull of her daughter (in heart and intent if not  
body) fell in upon itself was so complete that several mothers  
responded by weeping for their own, seeing the potential threat and  
hinting fatal connection.  
  
Sapphine attempted to remind them that the child was a demon, and not  
worth their tears. Despite her sway, few listened. Many bowed their  
heads, not watching as the flame continued to reduce the writhing,  
shrieking woman to ashes.  
  
"Ami! Oh mercy, AMI!!"  
  
Usagi howled these words at the top of her lungs, drawing every iota  
of attention as her scarlet wrapped form shoved through the knotted,  
resisting crowd.  
  
:Know this; a voice stated in Ami's flickering consciousness. :It is  
not over:  
  
"Senshi! Halt and face me!"  
  
Usagi paused, surrounded by a pool of growling and hissing Felynx, who  
parted, forming a sizable circle in which Sir Lording and she could  
commence combat. As she approached, Usagi's eyes slipped past her, and  
to the reeking corpse of what must have been Shyanne. Knowing she  
might have killed the child herself, and knowing how it had affected  
her friend (for she drew the experience from Ami's waned consciousness  
and could not stay the abundant tears), she faced combat all the more  
willingly, hoping to distract the rising tsunami of remorse.  
  
:Usagi! Sapphine's a KnightsMage of the first rank!; Ayana chirped  
fearfully, embroiled in the war against the demons, sensing the peril  
and attempting to extract herself from the battle to join her.  
  
:So am I now!; Usagi growled, aware of both the implications and the  
oddity.  
  
Sapphine's shapely form was armoured in no more than white leather, a  
headband, silver armlets and shin guards, and a long red binding sash.  
As she approached the newly inducted Demon Hunter KnightsMage, her  
aura became visible as a vivid white flare of self righteous power.  
  
"You self-righteous bitch!" Usagi snarled.  
  
"What foolish talk is this, demon? I am here to anhilate you and your  
army! Surrender and I will snuff your existence very quickly," her  
opponent responded heatedly, watching the creature deemed her foe with  
a trained eye.  
  
"The KnightsMage General would have you dead already for your  
mistake," Usagi declared tersely, striding towards her target.  
  
"What...? How... what do you know of him?" Sapphine demanded, matching  
her pace precisely.  
  
Usagi flared her anger darkened aura, her paramount emotion  
influencing her strength as she clapped her hands together, a vibrant  
burst of light snapping into existence and holding firmly in her hands  
and forearms.  
  
"I was indoctrinated by him, Sapphine Lording."  
  
Sapphine frowned.  
  
"So why then, do you fight with my brother?"  
  
"Because you're both alot alike. You're just has foolhardy."  
  
She only sniped a harsh expression at Usagi.  
  
Then, not four feet between them, the world halted as they gauged each  
other. Sapphine, all spritely energy, shifting slightly between both  
balls of feet, her right hand clenched in a fist under her chin, her  
left matching at her waist. A dark, seductive beauty of generous  
figure, of gold highlighted brunette hair bound in a single tail and  
tucked neatly under her headband, intense green eyes reading copious  
vengeful murder, full lips tightening in a pleasured smile, so totally  
full of confidence it was all she could do to halt from lashing out  
and ending it all right then.  
  
Usagi, relying completely upon instincts, knew not what would come,  
only that it would. Her clothes felt relentlessly tight and  
constricting; grey vest and silver cotton turtle neck; form fitting  
stone washed jeans; long lightweight khaki overcoat billowing  
elegantly behind her. (And why not? She'd created it that way.) Her  
great blond flowing tresses accompanied the standard yet shortened  
odango-atama, nigh three quarters her own height in length as she  
stood in ultimate defiance.  
  
"I know of your past. I know of the Death's Hunger," Usagi snarled. "I  
know he took you as a child, raped you... killed your family. Had you  
until six years ago."  
  
Sapphine merely blinked, registering nothing. Her voice, however,  
confirmed the story in the stored emotions behind each calculated  
word:  
  
"You will suffer. For that, for interfering, for tricking the  
KnightsMage General, and for living."  
  
Usagi's Blue Light Special shoes marked her feet at shoulder width  
apart, her sunspotting hands glowering with the same force that crept  
into her crystal blue eyes, shadowing them menacingly.  
  
"Ami was an innocent girl, and you have no right doing this! It's  
over!"  
  
Each woman wove a nigh silent spell, the words of which were audible  
to the supernatural senses.  
  
"Luna, Artemis, Sailor Senshi..."  
  
"Phate, let thy work strive..."  
  
"Give me strength to preserve..."  
  
"Through thy generosity let..."  
  
"My beloved friends! Please..."  
  
"This White Light of Retribution win..."  
  
"Nothing means more to me!"  
  
"Over these thy enemies!"  
  
The result was a gathering of manna so fierce that it killed the  
twenty nearest the epicenter. There was no blood, no outward violence,  
only the instant consumption of Felynx lives. The remaining sixty were  
picked up and carried aloft like sailboats in a stark raving  
hurricane. Of those, twenty eight died, the remainder suffering major  
wounds.  
  
The result?  
  
Mystic Ground Zero in a distinct radius of exactly one-hundred feet,  
six inches and two eighths. Sapphine lay as nude as her unconscious  
opponent, hair undone and thrown lightly about her delicate shoulders  
like so much fallen snow. The manna bomb had incinerated all  
non-organic materials, leaving four bodies lying upon the naked earth.  
Usagi and Sapphine both apparently unhurt - aside from the former's  
vaporized prosthetic left arm, the nearly unrecognizable earth  
pummeled mass that was the unfortunate Shyanne, and one half of Ami's  
scorched torso.  
  
Usagi's eyes beheld naught but a nightmare inducing scene as she gazed  
directly into the smoking torso of Ami, whose cybernetics had  
obliterated with the motion of the freak spell. She saw no more than  
half of a legless corpse, beaten, charred... vacant of an eternal  
soul.  
  
Fierce burning tears took her as she heard an awed gasp.  
  
"May Phate forgive me!"  
  
Usagi sat up, feeling an unfamiliar weight upon her shoulder blades.  
She twitched, a brush of air wafting across her back, adjoining the  
soft caress of... feathers? Instantly her mind cleared. She did not  
smile, but rose gracefully, aware of her flawless nudity, but not  
ashamed. A sliver light wrapped itself about her, a delicate hug of  
glorious clarity, peace, and godly love. A pleasured croon emanated  
from her throat as her formerly missing arm was restored in a wash of  
pale blue heat and light. Gathering herself, Usagi set her eyes upon  
the ruined body of her friend, and while she looked on, her friend was  
made whole in the glow of a harmonious light.  
  
Her ocean blue eyes opened gently, and she smiled, love in her heart,  
gratitude in her soul.  
  
"Mama?"  
  
Ami had barely regained her feet before she was obliged to accept a  
reborn angel-winged girl into her arms. Sweet tears of joy cascaded  
down both mother and daughter's cheeks as they exchanged rapt long  
lived hugs.  
  
"Forgive me Usagi-ana!" Sapphine begged, bowing on both knees.  
  
"Anso tala sol goru alh solo!"  
  
I pledge my life to your service!  
  
"No, Sapphine..." Usagi negated, her faultless tones the epitomy of  
motherly genteel and empathy. "You musn't."  
  
"But I...! I accused and destroyed an angel! How can I ever..." she  
turned, heartbroken, bitter tears quick to surface.  
  
"How? Serve the truth. Serve what is righteous." She took Sapphine's  
shoulders, turned her about, grasped her hands and held them, finding  
purchase through the glimmering windows to her wounded soul. "I was  
not kind either, Sapphine. May I ask for your forgiveness?"  
  
"But... Usagi-ana, why?" she nigh pleaded her inquiry.  
  
"Because I need to make amends too, for my mistakes. I'm so far from  
being perfect," she paused a moment, then continued on a new strain of  
thought. "I know the physical and mental molestation you suffer does  
not exclude you from His love. Trust the holy desire of your soul,  
Sapphine."  
  
The now golden haired woman read such unmitigated sincerity in her  
eyes, that she dared not doubt.  
  
"I still don't... how...?" she bit her lip, eyes unshifting, tears  
roiling slowly. "I've hurt so many... believing them cursed because...  
I... because I couldn't face my own pain. How can I be forgiven? How  
can I forgive anyone else... I am unworthy!"  
  
Usagi smiled ever so slightly and pressed Sapphine's hands just below  
the collar bone, between her breasts where her heart beat rapidly.  
  
"Have sincerity in your heart, and He will know. He knows us all by  
name, and knows our most intimate desires. You cannot disguise them.  
Have faith, a chaste, obedient heart, and humility. Be as a child."  
  
Sapphine finally bowed her head and sank slowly to her knees, hands  
clasped together as she sought fervent and honest prayer. Usagi turned  
to Ami, who, having been rejoined by Natole, slept contently in his  
warm, loving arms.  
  
"Usagi Tsukino," Natole began, voice hushed by the overjoyous ecstasy  
in his soul. "My life is yours. You have my unending gratitude."  
  
"Your life, Natole Shard, belongs to you. Though I would press you to  
dedicate it to my friend." She then nodded, as if she had performed  
the act as a matter of instinct.  
  
Perhaps now it was. 


	33. Unforseen Necessity, The

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 32: Unforseen Necessity, The  
  
His strike would not fail to hit its mark, it could not, for if it  
did, it would spell his doom. The heavy handed pole arm impaled the  
shadowling through its middle, causing it to burst angrily into dust.  
  
'Don't make this personal Thanus,' she warned, wielding an elaborately  
detailed trident, and hovering threateningly over his couch, which  
looked as though a large, wild boar had attacked it.  
  
'Why, isn't it?' he retorted, ducking and rolling to his wall of  
weaponry. Nimbly, he retrieved a crossbow and a handful of silver  
tipped bolts. He raised the bow and fired three shots in what seemed a  
single motion. With what appeared to be a mere twitch of the trident,  
she blocked each one, and the next four that followed, before replying  
a blast of fiery energy that threw the young man against the  
aforementioned wall.  
  
'No,' she replied soberly. 'I liked you.'  
  
Rising and retrieving a short bow and a handful of arrows, he  
commented:  
  
'You're cute. I could have liked you too,' he offered, letting a  
triple notched shot loose, only to watch it repelled. 'Attempted  
murder really sours the possibility of a relationship. I mean, there's  
not even much chance of a first kiss.'  
  
'Attempted? You place too great a value on your power level. You don't  
even know how badly you're outmatched,' she stated, not moving to  
block his incoming half dozen shots, which she reflected with a force  
of energy. 'On the other hand, you could always quit the Knighthood.  
Then I could avoid killing you.'  
  
'Funny how you believe you're actually going to win,' he returned,  
gritting his teeth as he approached her with a glowing Bo staff. 'If  
you were the Xalia I knew, then you would realize I'll never quit.  
There's no such thing. This is what I live for.'  
  
'I just had to ask, you know, be fair, and all that crap,' she  
explained as they fell into a blinding routine of strikes, blocks,  
parries that no human eye could perceive. Gradually, as the sweat  
appeared upon each brow, as each pair of eyes tightened in glares of  
concentration, Thanus noted something.  
  
The dark energy of her trident had become greater than the gentle  
radiance of his.  
  
'What you live for is what you die for!' she snarled, shoving him away  
with such inhuman force that he sailed into his wall of weapons, and  
sank right back against a fallen katana. Dumbly, he gazed down at the  
blade protruding from his chest, dropping the Bo, which crumbled to  
dust as its creator was fatally wounded. He glanced up at Xalia  
briefly, a crestfallen and heartbroken expression his final conclusion  
of just how life had treated him.  
  
Somewhat unfairly.  
  
His head then slumped down, his body toppling forward onto the floor,  
an empty shell.  
  
'Guess what cutie, life is unfair,' she remarked coldly, glancing  
indifferently upon the corpse. 'It's not your fault. It's just the way  
things are.'  
  
---  
  
It had been, well, only a week since their last visit. Nasura's  
demands had only exponentially multiplied since the news had reached  
her of the Xalia's disappearance.  
  
:But why hold a meeting at the dojo?; she thought, a concerned welling  
in her heart. :What could be so urgent?:  
  
She smiled briefly at her blond locked husband, who replied a striking  
sparkle in his eye. He enjoyed working with the girls, training,  
teaching. Having recently paid for the land, he had returned to his  
training, giving fine instruction to the small wealth of students by  
which they were blessed. It would be the Kei's first visit. The  
vibrant woman bowed her head, poking at her dinner with a lax hand. It  
troubled her. There was such an attitude of foreboding about it.  
  
'Mai-san, my dove... What troubles you?' he uttered softly in  
Japanese.  
  
Her eyes met his sharply, watering. "My dove," a term of great  
endearment between them. For a flickering she recalled the snowy  
creature as it paled in her hands.  
  
'Nasura-san will be joining us soon.'  
  
He merely frowned at her as he set his fork upon a barren plate. She  
stood, not bothering to excuse herself from the table as habit  
dictated. The loveseat caught her in all the silks of her kimono, her  
slender weight beset by breaching emotions.  
  
It was several moments before she felt his presence, and noticed the  
altering light of his shadow upon her.  
  
'At least they're not asking of Tenma and Kai,' he offered with a  
thoughtful calm.  
  
He joined her in a fashion that placed her head on his broad  
shoulders, bodies meeting gently, for comfort, yet incalculably more,  
their hands grasped such as had been at the point of their marriage.  
Mai's mind was blanketed by the frigid culmination of events many  
years past.  
  
'Would you exchange any of the discourse for what she has brought us?'  
  
Her reply was without hesitance, 'Never.'  
  
'Are you sure it was a good idea to send the twins away?'  
  
She nodded slightly.  
  
'Makoto is sure they'll be safe with her friends. That way they can't  
get hurt...' she paused and took a deep breath. 'And Tenma's baby...'  
  
'I understand. There's no sense in endangering them.'  
  
Silence transcended their intimacy, and watched them in their concern,  
and alighting fear. A white flash suffused the dimness of the room,  
drawing Andy to his feet as a sharp bolt of wind and a humanoid shadow  
carelessly dismantled the pane-glass patio door. The table collapsed  
upon itself as a laugh sailed to the ears of the battle ready pair,  
who marshaled their forces, expecting combat.  
  
'Get up senshi! Fight if you can!' wailed a ferociously determined  
female voice.  
  
Mai pronounced her attack, and presence, with spoken phrase and motion  
of hand, after which her white fans soundly battered the silhouetted  
target, who fell with the abrupt breaking of water.  
  
'Pick on someone your own level!' she snapped dramatically, hearing  
someone twenty years her junior. Sputtered and coughing, the blond  
creature flipped backwards out of the pool, water favouring her lithe  
form.  
  
'A challenge!' smirked a woman of considerable nerve and hair length.  
'Too bad about the Neo Girl, really... though much too weak for my  
tastes.'  
  
'Crescent Slash!' was the calling, the summoning not far behind,  
though easily evaded by the limber Mai. She hissed angrily, seething.  
With a long legged run, she leapt at the woman, leaning forward, all  
weight and crimson heat in her elbow. The woman smiled, and ducked  
back, rolling back on her shoulders. As the back of her head met the  
earth, she pressed her hands palm down, and with a blinding surge,  
boosted herself upwards.  
  
'Mina!'  
  
Mai glimpsed Makoto standing in the gaping portal of the patio doorway  
as a splitting agony threw her, like so many sandbags, into the  
shimmering manufactured oasis.  
  
'Not quite, baby-girl...! I've still got my face!' she winked, tossing  
a 'peace' gesture at the more than fuming Makoto, who growled as her  
iridescent broadsword came free from its scabbard. Andy's foot, in the  
white heat of a beautiful roundhouse kick, caught the back of the  
familiar looking stranger's head and sent her flipping into the pool  
where she failed to surface.  
  
'Oh no!' Andy cursed, before diving down to meet his wife who fought  
valiantly for air. The doppelganger's hands fit nicely around Mai's  
neck, despite the brunette's urgent struggles to remove them. Makoto  
neared the edge of the pool, watching them closely enough to see the  
deathly buildup of scarlet light before it solved her problem by  
tossing Andy and Mai's unconscious bodies from the pool and to the  
grassy earth.  
  
'Is that how you want to play it,' Makoto growled, watching the  
sputtering blond extract herself from the blast site tiredly. A silver  
light extended itself from the rune blade, encompassing the enraged  
senshi, who exuded an aura of righteous anger.  
  
'Huh?' she gasped eloquently, staring stupidly at the iridescent woman  
before her.  
  
With a fearsome snarl upon her face, she raised the blade above her  
head, her target transfixed by the beauty of the attack. Makoto  
screamed the following as she leapt at her intended deathmate:  
  
'Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!'  
  
As though the sun had quadrupled it's divine luminescence, every eye  
closed, every ear rapt/horrified in the audibly singular piercing of  
flesh...  
  
'No!!'  
  
Makoto's defeated voice rang, drawing Mai's hallowed focus from the  
dire depths of blackness, and her blurred sight upon the eerily  
suspended figures. The rune blade caught in the blond woman's  
stomach... and as recognition dawned... the crimson spire protruding  
betwixt Makoto's shoulder blades, beyond wind tossed earth brown hair.  
  
'Nakio-san! No!' cried a youthful voice in unfathomable loss. Ayla  
knelt over the inert form of Haisha, struggling to secure her life as  
it fled though the crimson marking the fragmented oak table. Whilst  
Masurani's fury ascended, a heavily muscled figure appeared just  
underneath the still-motion forms, a large club in hand, a handsomely  
dark snarl upon his roguish face.  
  
'Die...!' Masurani vehemently declared, fists clenched to whitening,  
her form alight by a scarlet force. 'DIE!!'  
  
"Mako-!"  
  
A surge, like that of enfueled flame, became the aura of seething  
energy about her, and she uttered no word, but a fearsome cry as she  
jab-punched the nimbus of power at the already dying blond. The blood  
coursing from the left corner of her mouth dissipated as the rest of  
her, a raw burst of ashes the only remnant. He caught Makoto's body,  
and was gone less than an instant later. As the emotional bonfire  
abated within the heaving breast of Masurani, her eyes grew wide, as  
did a spark of fear.  
  
'Did... I...' she panted, drawing a hand through her thick turquoise  
hair. 'Did I just kill Minako?!'  
  
'No Masura-chan,' Andy noted gravely as he took Mai into his arms.  
  
'And did he say...?'  
  
'Masurani, I need help!' Ayla interrupted fearfully.  
  
Masurani hustled over to Ayla's side as she proclaimed:  
  
'Help me get her into the spare bedroom. Quickly!'  
  
'Hai!' she acknowledged, easily gathering the limp girl into her arms.  
As they proceeded, there was a subtle knock at the door. 'Andy-san,  
would you get that? I need Mai with me!'  
  
'Hai Ayla-chan!'  
  
---  
  
'Set her down here. Where's...' the deep crimson haired girl glanced  
about. 'Ah, Naritha! Come here.'  
  
Naritha bowed slightly.  
  
'What is your need?'  
  
'I...' she closed her eyes and shook her head. 'You're an empath,  
right?'  
  
'Hai? How know you?' she blinked.  
  
'Doesn't matter. I need you to read her. If she's bleeding inside we  
need to get her to a hospital.'  
  
Naritha set her hands lithely upon the copper-haired girl's forehead  
as she bowed her head and drew her mind to bear on the victim.  
  
'There's no time, Ayla!' declared a studious voice, quite accustomed  
to the challenge of command. 'She'll bleed to death well before  
Naritha's done.'  
  
Ayla whirled about on her toes to address the speaker.  
  
'Nasura! I... I mean... um...'  
  
'Forget it! Catch,' she issued, tossing a crimson toned crystal  
towards the stunned young woman. 'Naritha, place this crystal on  
Haisha's chest,' she continued, handing her a purple crystal. 'You're  
the only one who can get her to activate it.'  
  
With an uncertain curl at the corner of her lip, she set the flat  
octagonal crystal just above Haisha's small breasts. She then replaced  
her hands upon Haisha's crimson marked forehead before bowing her  
head. Ayla watched as a blue shimmering line washed over the badly  
brutalized young woman. Her broken arm, leg, and ankle set as a purple  
shoulderless bodysuit replaced her stained and vaguely torn clothes.  
  
'Wow...' Masurani whispered, as if afraid of upsetting the process of  
change. To complete the mystic transformation, metallic-white armlets,  
shin guards, breastplate, belt, wristbands and choker took their place  
upon the now formal outfit. Upon close examination, Ayla perceived  
that she was not completely healed, for there were a number of small  
cuts and bruises adorning her abruptly remarkably clothed teenage  
figure, where former gashes and major wounds had once been.  
  
'Kei! How she healed so?' Naritha gasped, swathed by a stunning  
wonder.  
  
'Well, it's the Neo Senshi armour. It augments your strength, and all  
sorts of other things...'  
  
Ayla smiled, her face lighting up with the knowledge.  
  
'Then that's it! You've chosen the new senshi!' she nigh positively  
gushed.  
  
Nasura frowned vaguely.  
  
'No, I haven't. They chose for me,' she found a chair and sat down,  
head bowed solemnly. 'I take it the three of you were attacked?'  
  
'Hai sensei,' Ayla affirmed. 'The woman looked like Makoto. I don't  
believe it though.'  
  
'Good!' Nasura started, her gaze meeting Ayla's. 'I've got enough  
trouble without the complication of the clones. Nice to see you're  
thinking it through. You weren't hurt, either, I see. I have Masurani  
to thank?'  
  
'Hardly,' Masurani frowned. 'It was Naritha that kept her off our  
backs... not that she had much of a choice. She really didn't seem to  
like her.'  
  
'Shao-Enya. Most unpleasant woman,' Naritha nodded, a faintly matching  
darkness in her face and voice. 'Hm? She's still alive? Unfortunate. I  
was hoping you'd killed her. In any event, you're right Naritha, the  
lot of them are nasty buggers. Murderous lot. Powerful in the extreme.  
They've killed the other squires. It's you five or nothing.'  
  
The rush of gasps came so sharply that Nasura was surprised to note  
Haisha's among them.  
  
'If there was a time to fight,' she snarled ferally as she sat weakly  
up, 'this is it!'  
  
'Not like that you won't!' Ayla rebuked. 'You nearly died!'  
  
'Do you think we can honestly afford to stand aside and wait for them  
to hit us? They won't be so gentle the next round!' Haisha winced as  
she swung her legs over the side of the bed.  
  
'Ayla is right Haisha. Your senshi strength is only an amplification  
of your own. It cannot augment that which is not there,' Nasura  
explained gently. 'Besides, she's the leader of the Neo Senshi now,  
you must obey her.'  
  
Haisha looked stunned, gaping as Ayla did.  
  
'Wha-at...?' Ayla stammered.  
  
'I don't believe it!' Haisha blurted, plainly aghast. She glared at  
her 'superior,' not saving anyone face by hiding her feelings.  
  
'I should be leading the Neo Senshi! I don't know that this bookworm  
has any experience in the field!'  
  
'Bookworm!?' Ayla snapped angrily. 'How about you, you...'  
  
'Silence! Neither do you, Haisha,' Nasura reminded her firmly as she  
stood, bringing attention to the state of command she had not ever  
quite fallen out of. 'Your father's involvement in the military hardly  
replaces the caring wit this young woman has already brought this  
team. Now, I won't hear any more about this matter.'  
  
Both girls bowed their heads, and answered an affirmative 'Hai.'  
  
'Kei-san,' Masurani requested gently, 'I meant to ask about kinship  
rites.'  
  
Nasura seemed to sigh.  
  
'They will be honoured. The traditional armor is part of the crystal,  
but be aware that it uses a great deal of chi,' Nasura warned. 'And  
know that we must move, now, to counterattack. Haisha's headstrong,  
but right. She will accompany me as we attempt to determine the  
whereabouts of the last member of the Neo Senshi. The three of you,  
and the CSM, will make the stand at the front lines.' 


	34. Angel Senshi; Heavenly Ascension Among t...

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 33: Angel Senshi; Heavenly Ascension Among the Striken  
  
"Phate - how? Did you alter her thread?" Makoto prodded gently, wiping  
her tear reddened face.  
  
"Nay child, this was a potential buried in her pure soul from birth."  
  
Makoto watched in emotionally charged silence as the semi-transparent  
image shifted; Usagi talking calmly to Natole, then Ami and Shyanne as  
they awoke.  
  
"You are no longer cursed Shyanne," she was saying. She knew the  
honesty of the matter. Shyanne had been cursed with the powers and  
terrible needs of a Death's Hunger demon: The need to feed upon the  
energy of the living, the ability to fly, the gift of demonic strength  
and confusing emotions. Born a demon/canora halfing, always wanting to  
be fully one or the other, frustrated and pained by the inability to  
follow either. Truly, a curse for any child.  
  
"I have changed you... you are healed."  
  
"Um... thank you..." she offered, her young soul behind the words  
awkwardly spoken. "What about Mama?"  
  
"I helped her, she's safe now," Usagi answered easily, eyes sparkling.  
  
"Is..." she blinked. "Is she like me?"  
  
Usagi's heart suddenly thudded within her caging ribs. Makoto, twin in  
realization to her friend, saw the rising dilemma. How could a human  
mother raise an angelic child? Usagi's act, both inconceivable, and  
apparently unavoidable, had created a very unique and nigh impossible  
parental situation for the young mother.  
  
:It's not enough that she should understand...:  
  
Makoto whirled about to face a pulsing turquoise light. Uttering a  
slow gasp, she literally felt Ami's reaction, and returned her eyes to  
view the look of resplendent peace and joy within Ami's unscathed  
face. Cutting a thread was one thing, easily executed (to coin a pun).  
Altering one, especially a thread originating from another realm,  
required a great deal more effort (one at which even the most powerful  
mortal mages could only gasp).  
  
Ami's wings shimmered into existence, as blue as the gauze-like aura  
that illuminated the young woman. Ami's mortal born beauty suffered  
little adjustment but mere purification and enhancement of her already  
native fairness and child-like innocence, as well as the  
solidification of pale ocean blue wings and clearing of skin  
blemishes. The multitude of internal changes, the greatest of which  
was her induction into the universe of immortality, were known  
instinctively.  
  
Makoto drew an exhilarated breath as an all encompassing warmth  
encircled her. Her eyes closed while her consciousness expanded. She  
did not, on any level, fail to notice the realization of the power of  
her very soul. She knew it to be different than Usagi's, knowing that  
her most basic nature; the warrior, the confident pillar of physical  
and emotional strength, the survivor, had not suffered change.  
  
Moreover, she knew she was not alone. The others...  
  
Minako holding the shed cybernetic implants that had kept her alive.  
The half face had separated cleanly as the missing part of her face  
had spontaneously regenerated. Surrounded by strangers - the CSM  
standing all at once awed and aghast - and Dr. Carl Silver, a Silver  
Tail dragon and her lover, who gloried in her fantastic  
transformation.  
  
Rei, as emotionally scarred as the rest of the group, wept openly as  
her expansive wings spread and caught the surging wind atop the ridge  
mount she enjoyed with the company of her soulmate. Adolphus held her  
hand and drew close to her, enrapt by the heavenly transfiguration.  
  
As each opened her eyes, she found herself clothed in wafting silken  
robes:  
  
Usagi, a cloud white; Ami, a crystalline sapphire; Makoto, a suiting  
khaki; Minako, a pastel gold; and Rei, a gentle, pale violet. The  
awareness was so abrupt, each knowing their teammate's purification in  
the recent, blood smattered years of harsh dealings, and soul  
battering plight, that words, where insignificant, failed completely.  
Makoto's inhumanly vivid sight transmitted the image of a rarely  
smiling Phate, a loving mother more than generous benefactor or even  
bestowing mentor. For how great a gift could any mortal give  
comparatively?  
  
"Never undervalue the worth of a gift of the heart. No matter it's  
size," Phate stated calmly, sensing the question. "For there is no  
greater gift than love in this infinite universe."  
  
"Why, mentor?" Makoto requested softly, comfort centering her tones  
and her being just then.  
  
"You are not meant to lose," she explained, her voice full of  
sympathetic awareness. Knowing the enigmatic woman well, Makoto was  
mystified by the length at which she spoke. More words had been  
offered in the last few minutes than during her years of training.  
  
She fell silent, but her unimaginably powerful mind rang out amongst  
the newly born psyches of the Angel Senshi.  
  
:You are immortal now, and have the power to triumph. Know that I have  
done no more than accelerate your ascension. To honor this gift, you  
have to no more than use it. Illness, death, nor violence can take  
you. Only magic may affect your holy beings. Even for the telepathy  
and empathy you know of each other now, there is, furthermore, an  
intimate form of teleportation that will always join you:  
  
Makoto stood and bowed deeply, weeping silently. There was a white  
flicker, and she disappeared.  
  
There was no explanation required.  
  
---  
  
"Babe, how did she... I thought..." Hanlan's great arms encircled the  
now porcelain brunette, and for the first time in decades, he wept.  
She 'sushed' him, not wishing to disturb the tranquility of their  
embrace.  
  
:I'm still your warrior love; she assured him compassionately. :Now  
I'm just an Angel of War:  
  
:Okay, I... I guess:  
  
Yet, she could feel the rapid flood of his limited regard as he  
attempted to garner and absorb the sudden storm of events in his  
sluggish, but openhearted manner.  
  
:Baby-sweets; he began plaintively. :I think it'll take me a while to  
understand this... but... I gotta know, and I know it's gonna sound  
selfish... I just want us to be forever... y'know...?:  
  
:There is nothing selfish about the fear of separation, Han; Makoto  
replied easily.  
  
:So... are you really gonna live forever? I mean... are we...?:  
  
:I don't know; Makoto offered weakly. :At least, I'm not sure... but I  
think there's associative powers you'll gain as a result of our  
intimacy:  
  
:You mean, as long as I... well, keep lovin' you... then I'll live  
like you?: Hope transcended the feelings of forlorn worry in his mind.  
  
:Hai. I don't believe Phate would ask me to abandon you, not after  
everything we've been through:  
  
Hanlan, lying down on the bed in their apartment and drawing Makoto  
carefully with him, had one final question.  
  
:And does this mean you don't have to run anymore?:  
  
:No; she affirmed, turning about in his arms, placing her slender arms  
about his neck and kissing him urgently. :Not anymore...:  
  
---  
  
"Usako!"  
  
The recipient of the nickname ran smiling and crying into his arms,  
her voice chiming his name in endless gratitude for his existence. For  
the moment, they were alone. Aaran had not returned from the war,  
destined to follow that path onwards, however away from the Senshi it  
was. Ayana had been near fatally wounded, and was being tended by  
Narayan Lording and a unique young woman by the name of "Misa-Takuri."  
There was a chance she would choose to remain, especially with news of  
Tenma coming to term.  
  
Makoto knew this, and had heart to respect her will.  
  
Ami had teleported away with daughter and husband for some necessary  
"family time," before she could return to earth to join the others in  
the war against the NegaForce. Usagi, then, had teleported herself to  
Mamoru's presence, finding him back on earth, at the Shirinaui Dojo.  
  
'Oh Mamoru!' Usagi sighed, nearly choking him for the heights of her  
joy. 'Thank you!'  
  
He opened his pleasure clenched eyes.  
  
'For what, odango-san?'  
  
'For not leaving! That's what,' she quipped, all bitterness lost. 'I  
was an insane cow. You could have forgotten me and married Demelza.'  
  
'I would never have...'  
  
She pushed him away playfully.  
  
'I know,' she beamed. 'I'm so blessed!'  
  
'So am I...' his eyes fell. 'Usako...'  
  
Her heart hit her rib cage and stuck.  
  
'What?'  
  
'Will you...' he clumsily patted his pants pockets, rooting through  
them in a hurried search. 'Will... ah!' he exclaimed, producing a  
palm-sized jeweled box. He opened it to reveal a ruby studded  
engagement band of gold and Celtic knotted silver.  
  
'Will you marry me?'  
  
'Oh Mamoru!!' she yelped in a tone true to her younger self as she  
leap at him, sending them toppling onto the floor. 'Of course! Yes,  
yes, yes!!'  
  
Silence was evaded by the sound meetings of their lips in joyous  
celebration. For a while, it was all Usagi could do to breathe and  
kiss her husband-to-be, while Mamoru felt somewhat helpless under her  
sudden - but far from unwelcome - attack. Finally, she drew still and  
calm, her golden hair tossed about him while her head lay on his bare  
chest, made so by her emotionally fueled contact.  
  
'Mamoru...' she sighed wistfully. 'Aren't you afraid losing me to the  
war?'  
  
'Why? You are immortal, Usako.'  
  
She sat up, pulling herself up onto the bed and perching at its edge  
like a frightened sparrow.  
  
'We can still lose,' she pointed out cautiously. 'Just because I can't  
die doesn't mean I can't be killed. The Neo Senshi certainly aren't  
immortal... And neither are you,' she gazed at him anxiously, bitterly  
concerned.  
  
'We've survived worse,' Mamoru's voice was even, unwavering, and  
unutterably assured. 'Carl doesn't seem worried.'  
  
'Only because he's a dragon,' she muttered, eyes downcast.  
  
Mamoru's eyes widened as he gasped: 'A what?!'  
  
'Oh love, don't you know?' Usagi breathed, sounding not unpleasantly  
fatigued. 'That's why Minako fell in love with him...'  
  
---  
  
:...you could protect me, no matter what:  
  
The desperate urgency once found in the remaining side of her face had  
spread to both in the regrowth, leaving no question. Minako was still  
amongst the throng of stunned black armored soldiers. Their initial  
reaction had been dramatic:  
  
"Oh mama," Dakota had gasped, dropping her food at the sight of the  
transfiguration. The iridescent span of silver light had demanded the  
attention of all twenty seven young men and women, but only she seemed  
to have the wit to speak on any level.  
  
"Oh Lord..." came as a mute prayer from her lips and stunned face,  
transfixed by the sight of a newly born angel in their midst. Minako  
stood in a nimbus of sheer white luminescent energy, held in the  
glories of glories, unimaginably altered. For as soon as it came, the  
light receded, leaving a very changed woman among strangers. Clothed  
in a pastel shimmering gold robe, great glimmering yellow wings at her  
back, and an intense fiery yellow aura about her nigh flawless body.  
  
Many of them had yet stumbled over what they had just witnessed. The  
remainder, some fourteen or so, failed to reach even that point, and  
had bowed themselves to the earth, feeling every dark twinge of  
iniquitous guilt grasp hold of their souls in stammering fear.  
Minako's eyes had slowly opened, taking the in the scene and frowning  
faintly.  
  
"Get up," she had finally commanded, knowing their fear, and not  
delighting in its source nor being another cause of it. She did not  
have to jump into repetition. Of those who rose, some turned away from  
the sight of her believing they could not behold her for their  
unworthiness. Carl was quick to her side, sensing her distress.  
  
:They're afraid I'm here to judge them!; she cried internally.  
  
:Yes. But tread carefully. They will hang on your every word, and make  
you a villain or ally from them:  
  
:What am I supposed to say?:  
  
Carl's eyes were clear as spring water, and equally lucid.  
  
:The truth, my love:  
  
The implications were incredible, she perceived, and stumbled to form  
a sentence in her mind.  
  
"Minako..." Dakota chanced, voice wavering. "Why are you here?"  
  
Minako bowed her blond head briefly, emotions throbbing in her slender  
frame. She glanced upwards, linking eyes with the young woman before  
she spoke.  
  
"I'm here because of the selfish, cruel desires of a being who wants  
to capture my world."  
  
Dakota stood, while the others cringed and shrunk away.  
  
"What is your world like?" The glimmer of hope in her eyes was so  
sharp that Minako winced internally.  
  
"It's free," she stated, the only honest statement she could make.  
"Where I live, I learn what I want, attend school... I read freely,  
speak openly, and love whomever I chose."  
  
"Can we help you? Is it possible for us to go to your world and fight  
for your cause?"  
  
Minako's gaze shifted to Carl, who nodded. The three heard plainly the  
murmurs of confusion and mistrust. Jake Yyone approached Dakota,  
seeming almost to avoid Minako's eyes.  
  
"How can you volunteer us like that?" he demanded curtly. "We don't  
know what we're up against!"  
  
"Do we ever?" she retorted with a snarl. "Since when has the CS told  
us anything?"  
  
"It's not our place to know these things. We can't understand them."  
  
"That may work for you textbook boy," Dakota growled. "You haven't  
been out in the mission field! I know there's more out there than  
they're tellin' us. And if that ain't enough... I mean, we're alive to  
use our mutant powers, ain't we? That alone breaks every rule in the  
handbook."  
  
Jake folded his arms against his chest and frowned.  
  
"I just don' believe it. It's too good to be true."  
  
"Believe it. And Jake cutie? Your cliche is showing."  
  
"My wha...?" he glanced at himself briefly. "No it's... oh."  
  
Dakota barked a throaty laugh at his "oh, very funny" expression and  
grinned shortly at her somewhat gullible friend.  
  
"I dunno 'bout you, but I trust her. Ain' often yer lookin' right at  
an angel!"  
  
"Forget that she just asked us for help, hm?" he sighed. The dark  
skinned young woman nodded with a prominent smirk.  
  
Jake hesitantly faced Minako, and forced himself to remain calm, a  
stony unrelenting expression marking his emotional position.  
  
:Jake, Natasha's death wasn't your fault; Minako assured him. :The  
charge was damaged:  
  
"But I was responsible for her life!" he blurted defensively. "I  
should've checked it before sending her into the battlefield!"  
  
There were a dozen sharp intakes of breath.  
  
"...how did she know...?"  
  
"...she is an angel..."  
  
"...she's psychic!"  
  
"...she's a freakin' mage."  
  
"Shut up!" Dakota barked as she whirled swiftly about on her heel.  
"She's given us all freedom! Can't you all just damn well see we need  
her?!"  
  
"But how do we know?" one stocky young man requested firmly. "Any  
psychic would know about 'Sash."  
  
There was a wash of assent.  
  
"I don't ask anything of you," Minako stated, voice raised above the  
idle confusion. "You may leave as you desire."  
  
Half of the jaded group stood to do so. Carl stepped forth and called  
attention.  
  
"Far be it from me to remind you of the Phate you lot would have  
suffered at the hands of the Lone Star Geneticists." He had placed his  
hand on the table, and it held them in place, for a time. Good Enough.  
"And you should be thanking Minako! She gave me the very opportunity  
to draw you from the iron grasp of the Coalition. Dakota is right in  
saying that you owe your freedom to Minako!  
  
"I know you all have seen many strange things in the world. I know  
also that you have been taught to distrust them. What I am asking is  
not easy, and stands against everything you know. However, what you  
are, is, in itself, evidence that there is more to life than what the  
Coalition has presented to you. It may be difficult to accept, and I  
know it's a leap of faith, but I ask you: Have I ever lied to any of  
you?"  
  
The general reply; No.  
  
"Then I ask you to believe her. The Earth she comes from is free of  
the Coalition."  
  
"But how?" one young woman demanded in harsh, raspy tones. "They gave  
us all we've got."  
  
"The technology they have now is based on that which has existed for  
decades. What they have accomplished is no more than elaborate  
archeology. Would you turn away the chance to live as the educated  
do?"  
  
A dawning wave of voices uttered noises of agreement, of acceptance.  
  
"Uh, what's archeology?" a distant voice muttered.  
  
"Somethin' 'bout diggin' up old stuff'n readin' it t' learn the past  
history."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Y'know Dr. Silver, it might blow ya away t'learn this," spouted a  
firey young man as he muscled his way out of the crowd. "But some of  
us like the fightin'! We ain't exactly gonna give it up fer book  
learnin'! So you can take your offer and get vaped!"  
  
"Shut up!" snarled Dakota, easing herself up against the stocky man  
who was a clear foot taller than she. He snarled down at her, but said  
nothing. "You get too close to a Boom gun or somethin' Kale? You ain't  
heard a damn thing he's said! You know what she's offering? We would  
get to fight, our rules, no Coalition! It's your bloody dream!"  
  
"Uh..." his barrel chested torso slackened in posture abruptly. "No  
lie?"  
  
Minako shook her head at him.  
  
"No lie. All that matters is winning."  
  
"I kin handle that no prob," he grinned lopsidedly and nodded. "You  
ain't sore wit' me, 're ya?"  
  
"Kale," Minako began. "You've got to trust that Carl and I have your  
best interests at heart."  
  
His dark eyes studied the floor for a moment, then reached up to her  
again, thankful.  
  
"I'm real sorry... real sorry. Din' mean to be a jackass," he said,  
then performed an about face and disappeared back into the crowd.  
  
And Carl just picked up where he left off.  
  
"I must tell you now that her world is beset by a demonic creature,  
and they mount an attack as we speak to capture it. The risk is great,  
but the reward of ultimate freedom will be yours when we win."  
  
Jake looked puzzled.  
  
"When?"  
  
"Yes 'when'." Carl rebuked with cold authority.  
  
"Yes sir. We will kick ass, sir!"  
  
---  
  
:Adolphus my love, you are worried:  
  
Within the violent tumbling descent of shorn angel hair was a small  
stone cabin, seemingly molded from the rockface. The blizzard spared  
no mortal creature, and chiseled away at their haven so  
insignificantly that only time endless could destroy it. An open,  
smokeless mystic flame heated the two mages as they discussed her  
transfiguration. Rei's kindly, mollifying telepathic voice drew the  
gifted mage from his ominous trance. He oriented and centered himself  
upon his winged mate, letting his eyes steal into hers.  
  
"Of course I am worried!" he stated urgently. "Confront ye not great  
forces and see their nigh overwhelming power and number?"  
  
"Aye," she confirmed. "Yet I have my friends now! A miracle has  
brought us back together..."  
  
"And ye be drawn asunder nonetheless."  
  
Rei looked hurt.  
  
"What makes you say that?"  
  
"Deny ye the sense of your heart? I read it Rei, like the scrying  
calls of a spooked murder of crows, I know it."  
  
She leaned forward, pushing her closed fists between them, and leaning  
her head on his chest as she groaned in frustration and anxiety.  
  
"You're right, I'm scared. I'm scared of dying, of losing. I know it's  
foolish to fear that now, and stupid."  
  
"Nay," Adolphus began. "It be not stupid. Ye are not."  
  
"I didn't say I was. I was just thinking that it's kinda silly for me  
to worry about that after nearly having died several times in the last  
year."  
  
"Nay! Ye see only from that which ye know. Ye know only survival, and  
what concerns thee next."  
  
"Hm."  
  
"Ye know only the next threat, and are wary of it. To be otherwise  
would be foolish."  
  
She was silent, aside from an uncertain: "I guess."  
  
"There is more."  
  
She nodded.  
  
"I'm pregnant."  
  
His arms encircled her, a comforting warmth in the gracious hug.  
  
"I'm afraid he'll get hurt. He could die if I'm wounded."  
  
"Then refuse the battle."  
  
Rei felt twin pangs. One of anger; how could she turn the opportunity  
of revenge? Second; the ebbing guilt of the thought of foresaking her  
friends.  
  
She nodded, eyes closed, heart open.  
  
"Forget ye not the sacrifice I made," he paused, breathing deeply for  
the weight of emotions upon him. "Forget ye not the love of thy  
friends, that they sought thee beyond all chance."  
  
She was silent, breathing short, tight gasps.  
  
"If ye wish justice bought, then weigh carefully the cost. Outwit the  
fiend. Strike him down yet fail to lay a hand upon him. Need ye only  
be in his presence when the blade sinks home."  
  
"B-but..." she sniffled and wiped her nose with a readily grasped  
tissue. "Wh-what if thuh-they don't..."  
  
"Sssh," he crooned. "They will my angel. They will. Guide them from a  
distance, and seek not the battlefront. For ye hath many friends, and  
great be their powers. Let thy wit win over thy fury."  
  
"Oh Adolphus," she sobbed tearlessly. "I fear what I would be without  
you."  
  
"And I..." he sighed. "And do I..."  
  
---  
  
"I'm not much of a warrior. That's all there is to it."  
  
A remarkably smaller Natole Shard held his angelic wife - her back  
against his rock solid abdomen - and looked lovingly upon his sleeping  
daughter.  
  
"Yes," he agreed. "Yet I have fought much."  
  
"Honey," Ami began. "I appreciate your suggestion. But 'stomping the  
enemy'...? I know you may be 'One-Punch' - I've seen you in action,  
remember? - but this is war."  
  
"I never plan to fight," he declared in a ponderous bass cannon voice.  
"I know only to win."  
  
"I appreciate that, but we can't afford not to plan, my hulking dear.  
Makoto has Ayana to consider, Rei is clearly expecting, and so have I  
Shyanne. Usagi and Minako will not be far behind. I wish to assure  
their future parenthood. Not to mention lives."  
  
He nodded his head against her shoulder.  
  
"It's simple, really. If we fight on Uraki-Ayo's terms, we'll be  
quashed like a trapped bug, and the twenty-eight of us can't possibly  
manage the thousands of demons he's no doubt marshaled."  
  
Natole was silent. Ami was accustomed to the tranquility of his  
consideration, knowing that he reserved himself to speak only when  
absolutely necessary. For the moment, she basked in it, knowing he  
would voice his concern. It was not a matter of his being slow-witted.  
It was in no doubt true. He had learned at a young age, however, that  
there was wisdom in silence, and used it to offer only the choicest  
words he could conceive. His few words compensated for the lack of  
cunning, and often made those long in the tooth bite their own tongue.  
  
And when he failed in that, he had his Half-Giant nature upon which to  
rely. Handy, that.  
  
"We have to end it quickly," she concluded. "We have to throw him off  
balance and enter combat with him on our own terms. The Neo Senshi can  
take the forefront along with Minako's CSM, while we locate Uraki and  
annihilate him."  
  
"But what of Rei?"  
  
"She doesn't know it, but she has powers forthcoming that will protect  
her child." Ami blinked, stunned by her own words. "How I know that...  
I haven't a clue. I was just arguing against her joining us!"  
  
"Aye love," he replied coolly.  
  
"Intuitive knowledge?" Ami questioned, more of herself than acutely  
listening husband. "That's something I could get used to."  
  
"There is a matter you have forgotten," Natole indicated. "What of the  
traitor Xalia?"  
  
"I don't know. Right now there are so many questions. If she turned of  
her own will, then we're in a fair sight of trouble. The Neo Senshi  
are not quite powerful enough to receive her. On the other hand, if  
her personality has been altered in the same manner Mamoru  
experienced, it puts us in another position entirely. We can't spare  
the power to send in a rescue party. We're only going to get one  
chance at the NegaForce. It's much too early to tell. Besides, I'm not  
getting any intuitive hints on this one...'  
  
---  
  
There was a faint shimmering in Makoto's nude form as she slept, arms  
twined about Hanlan loosely.  
  
Her eyes flicked open.  
  
"What?"  
  
The heavy down comforter wafted downwards in the newly found empty  
space she had once occupied. When reality whirled to a standstill,  
Makoto realized she was drifting in a numb, wonderless void of grey.  
She beat her wings experimentally, finding that they only provided  
guidance, rather than the power of flight in this instance. Feeling  
her nudity, she summoned a simple khaki robe to cover her flawless yet  
still rough beauty.  
  
"The time has come to draw our contract to a close."  
  
Makoto snarled instinctively. The point of his saviorhood did little  
to affect her anger at his intervention, and constant watchful eye.  
Being traced by a dragon was no pleasant ordeal.  
  
"Do you want another match, dragon? To defeat me again? Would that  
please you?" she growled angrily, flaring her aura into a white heat  
about her.  
  
"No, unfortunately, it would not. I have seen your transformation, and  
because of it, I know that it is no longer my right to watch you."  
  
So he had morals after all! He simply chose to disregard those that  
did not suit his purposes. As Makoto gazed off into the grey  
distantless void, she felt a presence, and watched it fade into  
existence. He appeared as no less than himself, a fifty-foot grey  
horned dragon of mountain-like structure and ballistic plating hide.  
It was difficult to perceive from her vantage point that his face did  
less than glower upon her, rather than his honestly forgiveness  
seeking frown.  
  
"I believed you a mere mortal," he feebly explained. "I would never  
have harmed you in such a way..."  
  
She raised her hand and stilled the thundering tones of his voice. Her  
seething fervor of rage had all but ceased. Even for his pointless  
physical rigors of violence and magic, he had never done more than  
caused bruises. Hindsight, as it is well known, is twenty-twenty, and  
she could see plainly that he was little more than an irritation.  
Besides, he had saved her life, after all, and opened up the chance to  
return to Hanlan, and her friends.  
  
"I forgive you, Penmatre."  
  
The dragon bowed his head and then was gone again.  
  
"...Thank you..." 


	35. Arisen: Question of Family

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 34: Arisen: Question of Family  
  
The Resistence had been called into action, since the previously  
inactive Vortex crystal had reversed its role by issuing forth small  
amounts of shadowlings into the world of the newly ascended Angel  
Senshi. The Neo Senshi, on the other hand, moved forward in an attempt  
to destroy the crystal altogether. Between the two forces, and the  
courageous citizens, the shadowlings were beaten back to the source,  
and for a short time annulled.  
  
This, unfortunately, lasted only twelve hours, after which a surge of  
the creatures from the crystal began to route the human forces,  
consisting of largely untrained ranks. However, as slowly as the  
military tended to respond to the formerly unverified threat, they did  
come into play, bringing all manner of tanks and troops to contend  
with the enemy spewing crystal, which it seemed remained undamaged by  
countless rounds of weapons fire.  
  
For the time, the war was a stand-off. There was time to plan, among  
other things.  
  
'I don't know if I can face them. What if I do, only to fail against  
Uraki?'  
  
The red-haired Canadian regarded the three women as an understanding  
mother only would, and spoke with concern:  
  
'My daughter is out there right now, risking her life for me, for us.  
How do you think I feel, not knowing if she's hurt, or worse? This is  
not a question you should be asking me right now.'  
  
'So sorry, Osaka-san,' Usagi offered plainly in a deep bow. 'This is  
difficult for me.'  
  
'We're relying on you, Usagi. If you don't know what to do, then I  
cannot help you. And frankly, the idea scares the hell out of me. We  
need you more than you know.'  
  
'I've always had a knack for the wierd stuff - being Sailor Moon for  
all these years,' Usagi began in reply softly. 'It's everything else  
that gets me. School, tests, punctuality...'  
  
Osaka gazed at her with a puzzled, nearly pained expression.  
  
'You're scared.'  
  
With a piercing frown, Usagi looked up at her, her blue eyes  
glimmering, and nodded.  
  
She was afraid to ask.  
  
'Osaka... what about our parents?' she finally murmured, her head  
bowed as the words slipped out. She looked up again as they fell  
heavily to the carpeted floor.  
  
Osaka almost paled, the knowledge settling in her small frame like a  
chilling wind upon her resilient, tempered soul.  
  
'It is not my place to say, not this way. Ami, you will find your  
mother defending your home with a troop from the Resistance. We have  
no word on your father. Apparently he is not in Tokyo, so we can only  
assume he's safe. Their attacks have yet to even spread further than  
the downtown area. Rei and Usagi, however, I must speak to alone.'  
  
'Then I will go,' she stated, rising to her feet, and bowing deeply to  
her friends.  
  
'Usagi... before I begin, I ask you to tell Minako that her parents...  
they did not survive the intial attack.'  
  
Osaka's voice was filled with remorse and delicate tones as she spoke.  
  
'Uraki-Ayo targeted your homes first, and slipped by our forces mostly  
unnoticed. It grieves me to tell you...'  
  
---  
  
Somehow, even with the knowledge that she had survived, facing her  
made little more sense. What could she say: 'Mama! I went to a strange  
world, had a split personality who adopted a half-demon girl and got  
married to a Half-Giant Warrior of Mercy in another dimension! Then I  
was burned at the stake as a heretic, and resurrected as an angelic  
being by the incarnation of fate, Phate - that's right "P-h-a-t-e" -  
in another dimension! Oh, and guess what! I'm Sailor Mercury!'  
  
The best of luck, Mrs. Mizuno.  
  
From her vantage point, she could see her mother in fatigues, wielding  
an impressive looking double barreled shotgun as she tore into a  
half-dozen shadowlings approaching her house. She was coping, it  
seemed, and as she issued the command to retreat to the several other  
members of the Resistance, it was plain she was coping quite well.  
  
It was as if she didn't miss her.  
  
'Mama?'  
  
She blinked, half-smiling at her daughter.  
  
'Hai Shyanne?'  
  
She winced at the remorse in her voice.  
  
'She's my grandma, isn't she.'  
  
Ami nodded simply.  
  
'Hai little blossom, she is. She doesn't know we're back.'  
  
The sprite-like girl nodded, then fixed her eyes upon the group as  
they shut themselves within her barracaded house. There was no  
wondering, for the moment why her mother had taken the front lines.  
The building was filled with the wounded and dying that had gone  
before her. She was partaking of her duty to the best of her human  
ability. Ami found herself discovering a new respect for her mother.  
Then Shyanne spoke sharply.  
  
'We should help, Mama-san!' she frowned, pointing skyward. 'Grandma's  
not safe!!'  
  
Plainly; nearly twenty of the shadowlings descended upon the battered  
and worn building. It had the attitude of weakness, as if... even as  
the thought came, the front of the building collapsed in upon itself,  
exposing the makeshift infirmary. Acting before thinking, Ami grabbed  
Shyanne and flew towards the house, flaring her aura dramatically as  
she sailed towards the newly founded battle site.  
  
Not moments later were the less than two dozen creatures banished, and  
the passage of an expression of complete astonishment into a loving  
welcome.  
  
'Oh my God, Ami!'  
  
Tears came, as the hug remained, and Shyanne smiled glowingly, her  
eyes filled with wonderous happiness, inspired by her mother's  
emotion.  
  
---  
  
They were alone for the suspension of time, it seemed, and the news  
Osaka bore did not come without its emotional impact. As she spoke it,  
the force struck her like something of a sledgehammer. Like  
scintilcating shards of scattered glass, a part of her world had been  
destroyed. Then came the overwhelming need to be with them.  
  
As she flew to their indicated locale, there was something else, a  
nagging emptiness that could not be filled by even Mamoru's love and  
dedication. A young boy who's performance in school had been  
dramatically altered by her disappearance; a mother who cried for days  
every morning at the realization that she wouldn't be late for class;  
a father who knew all too suddenly that boyfriends would never again  
endanger her.  
  
There was nothing else to do, they needed her. Returning home through  
the midnight sky carnage, dispersing the occasional shadowling that  
threatened. Meaningless. Each of the dozens of creatures she destroyed  
with little more than a blinking effort mattered naught aside her  
ascending panic as she noted the destitute surroundings of her block,  
how many of the homes were vacant, some torn open and gutted, others  
only lacking occupants.  
  
It should not have been a surprise to discover her own to be a shell.  
Images flashed in her mind, her brother crying, her mother tumbling...  
limp, hurt... the raised, frightened voice of her father.  
  
'Usagi?'  
  
Through blurred vision she percieved him, gazing numbly up at the  
winged woman that had been his scattered, lively, energetic daughter.  
Beside him was her brother, Shingo.  
  
'Papa-san?' she whispered, landing gracefully, her robes swirling  
about her slender legs as she approached her misty-eyed father. He  
hadn't shaved in weeks, and looked as though the emotional buildup  
inside was finally taking its toll on his body, and his soul.  
  
Reading his face, and his emotion, she could see the tearing between  
despair and eternal gratitude. Foreknowledge did not restrain her  
question:  
  
'Where is Mama-san...?'  
  
His mouth opened, held, then shut as he bowed his fatigued visage.  
Tears came, and she fought them not, she merely came into a desperate  
hug with lost father and brother.  
  
---  
  
Rei had no one to turn to save Adolphus, who gazed as she did upon the  
long settled corpse of the temple. She wept in his arms, remembering  
his overbearing voice, his foolhardy disregard for his age, endless  
chasing of girls, and protective strength.  
  
'I'm sorry Grampa,' she whispered. As she did, she felt a distinctly  
familiar presense, accompanied by the rising flame of her prayer-fire  
amongst the lifeless wreckage of her home.  
  
issued a somewhat ragged voice.  
  
'Grampa?' she blinked, gazing at his transparent image within the  
flames.  
  
  
  
'Grampa...'  
  
  
  
'What happened?'  
  
  
  
'Oh Grampa...!' she sobbed, her eyes holding to his bald-headed tired  
looking face.  
  
I loved you. I might never have listened, but...  
  
'I know Grampa... I know.'  
  
I waited so long for you. I just couldn't hold on any longer.  
  
'I'm sorry, I screwed up!'  
  
  
  
'Grampa!' she laughed half-heartedly, then soberly smiled: 'Hai.'  
  
  
  
Her voice was reverant as she spoke, whispering a final departure.  
  
'I will Grampa, for you.'  
  
---  
  
'Usagi...'  
  
They sat upon the edge of the dark, pock marked and war-scarred  
street, silent until he offered his voice in an attempt to stay the  
tension of so many years apart, and such violent diversity.  
  
'Hai Papa?'  
  
'I just wanted you to know that I love you.'  
  
She leaned over, resting her head upon his dirt darkened shoulder,  
letting her right wing shield her father and brother from the silky  
breeze. The silence after their embrace had been on his part. The  
death of her mother, and his wife, passed in a sharp burst of sobbing.  
Thereafter, they had listened to Usagi's explaination of everything,  
her being the super-heroine Sailor Moon, leader of the Bishojo Sailor  
Senshi, and Princess of the long shattered Moon Kingdom. Like a  
hamster running in place, the truth of her words, there was no  
mistaking her now, she was so lucid, hung there, slowly reaching the  
very point of registration in his troubled consciousness.  
  
'Thank you Papa.'  
  
'I missed you, sis'.'  
  
She smiled warmly at the frightened, yet somehow toughened boy.  
  
'Papa... I want to tell you something.'  
  
'Hai?'  
  
She hesitated, no telling if his reaction had altered since...  
  
'I'm married.'  
  
His face reddened slightly, but he remained silent, knowing she was  
beyond his parental lockhold in that facet.  
  
'That's... that's... Who is it?'  
  
'Mamoru Chiba.'  
  
'Oh cool! You said he's Tuxedo Kamen, right?' Shingo piped excitedly.  
  
She nodded.  
  
'I'd like to talk to him sometime,' her father issued, picking his  
glasses away from his face and wiping them with his grimy formal  
shirt. 'I wouldn't want to have to hurt him for mistreating my lovely  
daughter.'  
  
His face, while mostly stiffly unemotional, was betrayed quite simply  
by the fondness and trust in the tones of his moderate voice. Usagi  
wrapped her arms around him and smiled beamingly.  
  
'Oh Papa-san!'  
  
His arms encircled her, and he wept gently, silently, and she only  
knew by the psychic wash of fear and love that encompassed her as the  
glow of warm entitled to those of family love in truth grasped them  
like a divine calm.  
  
'I love you Usagi... I always will...'  
  
---  
  
Usagi had time thereafter to deliver the horrible message to her  
friend, who took to Carl immediately, without regard for the  
surrounding warriors. Carl removed her from their presense, and upon  
discovering the cause of her tears, offered what little, yet grand  
support he only could, then. There were no words in her heart for him,  
or anyone else. Only a powerful, nearly overwhelm roaring wave of  
loss, hurt, and comfirmation a long nursed nightmare.  
  
In many ways, despite being an angel, and beyond surviving a world  
which shredded people like discarded paper, she reached that edge...  
the one where during a late night, the car would halt in the middle of  
the empty, cold road, while the occupant would leap to a watery death  
for no apparent reason... or digging a knife into the wrist merely out  
of curiosity, only to be caught white and dead the following morning.  
That edge that snapped the resilent human mind. Perhaps it was due to  
her immortality that the psychological band did not breach, or perhaps  
it was her own innate strength, or perhaps it was because of the  
support and emotional efforts of Carl Silver.  
  
None of it mattered. Nary a wit. Was there a chance for the scar to  
heal? Certainly, but not then. It was enough that she had to find it  
in her to be functional on the most basic level. Lives depended upon  
her. Perhaps that was another factor driving her onward when nothing  
else might have.  
  
Perhaps.  
  
---  
  
'Mama?'  
  
She gazed at her blue-winged angel child, her face an unreadable mask.  
  
'Yes Ami-chan?'  
  
Always "chan" regardless of age they had both affectionately agreed.  
This manifestation of Chaos on Earth failed to remove that from their  
hearts.  
  
'I'm sorry I have to do this.'  
  
'Why? I know how important this is.'  
  
'But you... you... you aren't... Mama... why aren't you smiling?'  
  
'I'm sorry angel... would you rather I fake it?'  
  
'Mama...!' she pined, looking deeply stricken.  
  
She bowed her near-black haired head, the conflict of emotion pulsing  
powerfully within her as her heart thudded against her caging ribs.  
She was weeping when she finally raised her head to regard her  
daughter.  
  
'It's everything you told me,' she started, hands folded limply  
against her bandaged stomach. 'I can't get my head around it. Died?  
Half cyborg? Insane...? What is the world trying to do to us?'  
  
Ami just shook her head in silence.  
  
'You know, if I could have done anything... I just wish... I wish I  
could have protected you!'  
  
'But Mama, I feel like this was my fault! I couldn't stop it!'  
  
'It's not, and you know it!' she almost whimpered, wiping her eyes  
awkwardly with her war-sodden hands. 'You did the best you could...'  
  
'But it wasn't enough.'  
  
'I know.'  
  
There was a shifting silence.  
  
'You know I'm just happy to have you back,' she offered sincerely. 'My  
little intellectual is an angel...! I always knew you were, but  
this...'  
  
'I know. It seems impossible.'  
  
'All of it. Why didn't you trust me enough to tell me you were Sailor  
Mercury?'  
  
'Mama... How could I? I'm not... not really... your daughter. In no  
conceivable way would you have entertained that thought.'  
  
'You're right. Only this...' she glanced around at the ruins of their  
home. 'Makes it real to me. And losing you.'  
  
'Oh Mama...' she almost crooned, then supplemented: 'I love you.'  
  
'I love you too angel. Even if I'm not your biological mother.'  
  
'As if that matters!' she replied sharply, then; 'Um...' she started  
after several moments of silence. 'How is she?'  
  
'Sleeping. She's amazing Ami... so beautiful. So much like you! I told  
her a story, like I used to when you were so young, and such a  
gorgeous doll... and she fell asleep smiling. You're a wonderful  
mother Ami. I'm so proud!'  
  
'Oh Mama! Thank you...!'  
  
'We will take care of her until you get back... okay?'  
  
'Mama... I...'  
  
'No. Don't argue. We've got a war to win. Besides, she's a tough girl.  
She'll be fine.'  
  
'Hai Mama-san,' she smiled gloriously.  
  
---  
  
For Makoto, there was no one to lose, for her parents had died long  
before the war. Her feelings, as a result, when she eventually learned  
of the plight her friends suffered, was directed in the offerings of  
sympathy and emotional support. It was a learned thing then, for never  
before had she been leaned upon with so great a need, nor by so many  
at once.  
  
It was for her a time of selflessness, and undoubtable growth. 


	36. For the Interval of Uncertainty

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 35: For the Interval of Uncertainty  
  
The city seemed lost and distinctly lonely below them. A dark shroud  
had enveloped the light mottled and remarkably inactive realm. It  
would seem to the five women that the population of the city had  
abruptly vanished, yet they all too sharply recognized the fearful  
silence. There was an errie calm about the city, the armies of Tokyo  
beaten back by the shadowling forces, who in turn were muted by their  
own lack of energy. The war had reached a great pause, and for those  
of the Resistence and the Military that survived yet, there was a  
great, welcome reprieve. Time had been given for each side to lick  
their wounds, regroup, and for the Resistence, to fortify their  
barracks and holdings.  
  
For what else was there to do?  
  
The Neo Senshi, however, had chosen that moment to mount their attack,  
taking clear advantage of the vast emptiess, allowing them time to  
scout their remaining territory and study the vortex with deeper  
scrutiny. They had already been fighting for nearly ten hours,  
destroying the last few shadowlings the natives of Tokyo had been too  
weak to eliminate. Presently, they proceeded to the vortex crystal and  
the great winding tower of sinister energy that swirled about it.  
  
"Not too long ago we cowered down there with them," Masurani remarked  
wistfully, albeit sourly. "It must have been months... but I swear...  
it feels like yesterday Usagi fought Beryl."  
  
Their transformations had revealed outfits not too dissimilar from the  
style of their predecessors, aside from the addition of armlets, and  
white shin plating armour, among other plainly cosmetic alterations.  
Apparently, the Neo Senshi were expected to see a fair amount of  
combat.  
  
'Usagi is very, very brave woman,' Naritha confirmed with an emotional  
flutter.  
  
Ayla nodded slowly.  
  
'Hmm,' she agreed, the short affirmation filled with anxiety and  
unease.  
  
'What do you mean "hmm"? We still don't know very much about that  
bloody thing!' Haisha observed, her sharp tones masking very powerful  
bouts of rampaging internalized fear.  
  
"That bloody thing", denoting the tornado of swirling violet and  
midnight forces which they approached with as much a sense of its  
power as a respect for their overall duty, had taken a firm hold on  
the corner of the city in which it had been planted.  
  
'Sailor Pheonix, don't ignore your mystic senses. They will tell you  
what you need to know,' Nasura advised her gently.  
  
'Oh, okay... I just thought that was Seraph's job.'  
  
Nasura refrained from sighing before she threw a hinting glance to  
Ayla, who bowed her head and nodded.  
  
'Sailor Seraph, what can you tell me about the crystal?'  
  
Naritha took a deep breath, and opened her mind. She bowed her head,  
shuddering, and expelled the inhaled lungful sharply an instant later.  
  
'It very, very grave, Ayla,' she nearly whispered, raising her tear  
streaked face to meet Ayla's gaze. 'Hundreds caught in. Death for many  
days. Much loss, pain, and fear on those threatened by it.'  
  
'What else? Haisha? What do you know about that area?'  
  
'It's urban, if that's what you mean. Lots of people are... oh hell!'  
she stopped as she gained a flickering sense of Naritha's explaination  
of the situation. 'Shit. Were! Oh Seraph.... you're - oh god - right.  
It's killing the residents of the area and...' she paused to breathe,  
eyes wide with shock. 'Literally growing! Look at those apartment  
buildings!'  
  
Each of the four senshi trained their mystically augmented sight on  
the buildings, which appeared as though they had been blown or split  
open by some muscular giant. They shared angered, determined, or  
sorrowed glances as the reality struck home.  
  
'I don't know what to...' Ayla muttered softly as she shook her bowed  
head. 'Is there anything else?'  
  
There was a stern, unwieldy, and stark silence. It was not a concern  
they wished to face, but knew, that that was the very reason for their  
Knighthood. Such a demand could only be carried on a fellowship of  
shoulders.  
  
'There's an energy shield surrounding it,' she explained. 'Masurani?'  
  
'Hai?'  
  
'Would you hit it with one of your chi bolts?'  
  
Masurani glanced questioningly at Ayla, who nodded. A shrill yellow  
light formed about Masurani's figure as she gritted her teeth with  
effort, squinting fearsomely at her distant target. Then, as she  
shoved the ball of fire-like chi forward with her hands, she snapped  
of a short vocal report:  
  
'Kei-ya-hei-ya!'  
  
The shimmering bolt flared away and struck the shield with no more  
event than a single shudder, causing Haisha to blink as her suspicion  
was confirmed.  
  
'Oh geez... It did. It absorbed the energy. That complicates things.'  
  
'No doubt,' Masurani grunted sarcastically.  
  
'We can't let it grow any further... it's nearing central Tokyo!'  
  
'Well, I'm leaving it up to you to figure this out,' Ayla replied  
curtly. 'You're the tactician.'  
  
Haisha blinked, as if confused by the order.  
  
'If you won't do it, I'll find someone else!' Ayla snapped, her temper  
rising so quickly that Haisha was too startled to answer at first. 'He  
will attack soon. You made that abundantly clear. Are you going to  
make use of your military knowledge or would you rather join the  
civilians down there?!'  
  
'Hell no! I am sorry,' Haisha replied sincerely, her voice hushed by  
obedience. 'You just be ready to attack when we return, ne?'  
  
'Don't start. We'll be ready,' she snapped back.  
  
Nasura shook her head, and spoke:  
  
'I swear, you two make up for the lack of any masculinity in this  
group. Nasura, be ready to leave in a moment. We are almost there.'  
  
'Hai sensei.'  
  
'Nasura, did you have to make them so skimpy?' Masurani complained  
from her own consuming thoughts, tugging at her awkwardly short skirt.  
  
Nasura arched an eyebrow with an amused expression on her face.  
  
'Me? What makes you think I am responsible for their appearance? It's  
tailored to your thoughts.'  
  
Ayla giggled as Masurani blushed furiously. She held her silence as  
they continued toward Nasura's destination.  
  
'I think you are more feminine than you perceive yourself,' Ayla  
observed aptly with a sly grin.  
  
The sky blue haired girl threw her a cold look.  
  
'I swear I never imagined a skirt this short! I'll be flashing guys  
all over the place with this thing!'  
  
'Masu-chan,' Naritha interjected. 'Nothing wrong with being womanly. I  
worry for being wanton. You like my choice?'  
  
Masurani's regard softened. Naritha's 'choice' was indeed womanly: A  
sleeved body suit of silvery blue with knee high shin guarded boots,  
white breastplate, upper arm plates, full gauntlets, and standard  
white choker. Each piece of armor was also decorated by a single  
sapphire crystal.  
  
'Masurani, you can alter your costume if you are not satisfied. I  
cannot have my senshi distracted by such details.'  
  
'Good to know,' she replied with a streak of ire.  
  
'I think maybe you should just drop the skirt entirely, Masu-chan. Why  
don't you just go for full plate armour?'  
  
She smirked, 'It's no wonder you're the leader, Ayla-chan. I wouldn't  
have thought of that.'  
  
'What about something more like this, Masurani?' Haisha offered. Her  
purple, shoulderless cat suit struck both the classy and sultry  
chords. Masurani gave it a briefly appreciative glance.  
  
'I never really liked the Inner Senshi outfits,' she added.  
  
Nasura demanded their attention sharply.  
  
'You had best make it quick, young one!'  
  
'Hai sensei-san!'  
  
Nasura merely nodded. Ayla cast a serious glance to her friend.  
  
'Geez, she's absolutely intense.'  
  
'Out of the frying pan and into the fire, I think,' Masurani  
suggested, cracking her knuckles loudly as the change washed over her.  
Her suit was replaced by light plate armour and a skin tight body suit  
of dark brown. The armlets, shin plates, and breastplate shone of  
newly polished steel, and each bore a crystal of earthen tones.  
  
Ayla gave with a start, amazed by the comparative masculinity.  
Masurani winked at her.  
  
'Didn't I say it was a little too little? That thing wasn't fit for a  
senshi like me. Oh,' she glanced at Haisha. 'Thanks.'  
  
Haisha merely nodded, seeming to - rightly - concentrate on the task  
ahead of them. She was remaining near Nasura, discussing the  
statistics and stratagem of battle. The ashen haired girl nodded  
deftly at Masurani.  
  
'But Nasura said that the first outfit stemmed from you, why...'  
  
'It was kinda nice, but way too impractical,' she shrugged,  
indifference setting upon her face. 'I'd never wear anything like that  
if I wanted to fight, really. Too skimpy.'  
  
'Compared to what, a bikini?' Ayla retorted with an arched eyebrow.  
  
'Well, no, that's not what I mean! Too... slutty... I'm not into  
flashing my thighs every time I bend over, among other things...'  
Masurani's voice faded into silence as she realized that Ayla's outfit  
had not changed from that standard. Her expression clouded with  
discomfort. 'Sorry! You don't have to stay like that if you don't want  
to...'  
  
'Thanks,' she sighed. 'You're a real big help...'  
  
'Halt!' Nasura called back sharply, sounding irritated.  
  
Ayla's eyebrows knitted.  
  
'Is there something wrong?'  
  
'We're having company,' Nasura glared into a point in the sky just  
ahead of them.  
  
:If looks could kill; Ayla remarked to herself, :we'd be post mortem:  
  
With a stern thought, she quickly determined a variant of her friend's  
outfit over her own. She fashioned a two piece body suit of crimson,  
with white plate armour and also the orange-red crystals of Masurani's  
design. The upper body armour started at her neck, and stopped at the  
wrist and at the bottom of her rib cage. The lower part began at her  
waist and ended evenly at a pair of ankle-high boots. Masurani handed  
her a sly grin, noting the alterations.  
  
Her attention was quickly distracted as a piercing blue light opened  
in the air before them. From it the angelic Makoto, and her husky,  
thickly muscled soulmate appeared.  
  
'Makoto?' Nasura squinted at the two, as if unsure of their existence.  
  
'Hai. Nasura-san,' Makoto smiled faintly. 'Things have changed.'  
  
Masurani drifted close to Ayla, and whispered:  
  
'She's been working with Makoto already? Why hasn't she told us?'  
  
'Sssh,' Ayla urged, trying to catch the conversation. Despite her  
verbal negation, the curiosity that had been awoken within her grew.  
Makoto? Was it really her? What had happened? Where had she gone?  
  
'Carl has a small detachment of Rifts Earth Coalition Grunts to assist  
you at the forefront. I know you're ill prepared.' She faced the four  
star-eyed young women, awed by someone they idealized and adored even  
more greatly since her unwilling departure from Earth. 'Are these your  
senshi?'  
  
Ayla bowed respectfully to Makoto. A blush warmed her cheeks faintly  
as she realized how sharply attractive Hanlan was.  
  
'Makoto-sama, I am Apollo Ayla, Sailor Sol, leader of the Neo Senshi.  
This is Sarle Masurani, Sailor Titan, Mishuru Haisha, Sailor Phoenix,  
and Walynn Naritha, Sailor Seraph.'  
  
'An honor to meet you,' she bowed deeply. Each of the four instantly  
replied the bow, feeling varying degrees of embarrassment and unmasked  
shock at being so abruptly distinguished.  
  
'The honor is ours!' Ayla quickly established, a wash of crimson upon  
her cheeks.  
  
'I'm sorry I cannot fight with you for very long,' Makoto apologized.  
'But we are going to approach Uraki-Ayo on our own terms.'  
  
'"We"? The Inner Senshi?' Haisha queried eagerly.  
  
'Hai. We have been reunited,' she smiled to the young woman.  
  
'Sailor Sol, Makoto, Sailor Phoenix and I must leave you,' Nasura  
determined abruptly. 'We must locate the last of your senshi.'  
  
'On that point,' Makoto began forebodingly, her darkening eyes locking  
with Nasura's. 'I learned something you're not going to like.'  
  
'What?' Nasura nigh pleaded, the leaden weights within her soul  
seeming to increase.  
  
'This was discovered at the murder site of Kinisou Thanus,' she  
stated, handing her four small jade crystals. At the paling of  
Nasura's complexion, it was plain the import of the event.  
  
'This isn't possible!' she gasped, gazing stolidly at the shining gems  
resting in her palm. 'She wouldn't have!'  
  
'She did,' Makoto decreed. 'She left signature chi constructs  
everywhere. Thanus' body was laced with them.'  
  
The four young woman gazed at each other in certain unbelief.  
  
'I'm sorry to have to tell you this,' Makoto sighed, as deeply wounded  
as any other there. 'But Ether Xalia is a traitor and murderer.'  
  
Dramatically, she faced the stark angel, and spoke:  
  
'Haisha, come.'  
  
'Hai sensei,' she replied faintly, still stunned by the facts Makoto  
had presented.  
  
'But sensei! Who is Xalia?' Ayla tossed forth, seeking an answer,  
knowing the chance of receiving one was slim.  
  
'The first Neo Senshi. Sailor Ether, who I Knighted just after the  
Inner Senshi disappeared. There isn't really time to explain it!  
Haisha!'  
  
'Hai!'  
  
'Good luck...' Ayla offered with a weak bow. Nasura bowed deeply to  
Makoto, then briefly to Ayla and the remaining senshi. At a pace Ayla  
could only guess was mystically augmented, they departed the scene  
without another spoken syllable.  
  
'You may lead, Sailor Sol,' Makoto offered with a wan smile. She  
nodded to her mate, and they trailed only seconds behind as Ayla set  
the pace towards their target.  
  
'What the hell?' Masurani snapped. 'She killed the other squires?  
She's why we're senshi?'  
  
'I don't know,' Ayla replied. 'I thought she said the clones were  
responsible.'  
  
'Look Sol, I don't know how you expect her to know. She isn't  
perfect.'  
  
Ayla said nothing, having fallen into one of her trances of  
consideration.  
  
:How did she know?:  
  
'I sense Nasura with much fear and tension. She not like self much  
now,' Naritha elaborated, taking advantage of the silence.  
  
'I don't think I'd be too pleased with me either if I screwed up like  
this,' Masurani frowned, feeling somewhat unnerved. 'Why'd she still  
go off to check out Thanus' place if there's no chance of bringing  
back another senshi? And what if she does? Don't think I won't fry  
this chick if I ever see her!'  
  
Ayla snapped out of her mental pacing and spoke up:  
  
'I'm not sure what her tactic is, but it might be more complex than it  
first seems. Nasura trained her personally! In that department, she  
would be well ahead of us.'  
  
'So what? Her magic tricks won't help her out of that mess!'  
  
Ayla regarded her friend sternly.  
  
'You don't know that. As Sailor Ether she had ten times the chi  
resources we do! Not to mention the mental disciplines... I should  
hope all of that makes a difference!'  
  
'That just makes her more dangerous,' Masurani replied with a huff. 'I  
mean c'mon! Aren't you worried at all?!'  
  
'Some of us have more faith than you do,' Ayla stated calmly. 'It all  
centers around the second line of the code. Don't you remember? "Keep  
the Word, with every Means at your disposal." Xalia may be protecting  
us anyway...'  
  
'You're dreamin',' Masurani scoffed, rolling her eyes. 'Faith won't  
win the war.'  
  
'It's better than getting down about it,' she rebuked softly with the  
slight appearance of accusation. 'Don't you believe in them?'  
  
'Sure, but I can trust the Inner Senshi. This chick though,' she  
scoffed, 'No way. Not a chance.'  
  
'Ah... if may speak mind?' Naritha interjected hesitantly. Both girls  
continued to glare at each other, holding a rocky silence. The young  
Chinese girl took that as an affirmative.  
  
'If sense right, then Nasura believe same,' she observed, glancing at  
the spiteful pair. 'I say give chance. May not be Xalia acting on free  
will. Recall what NegaForce did to Mamoru? Could be same, now.'  
  
A regretful look fell over their faces as Naritha's point struck home.  
  
'I guess, but I won't trust that until I can get some proof. If not,  
I'm gonna smoke this chick,' she declared assuredly, smacking one  
gloved hand into the palm of the other.  
  
'We'll just have to wait and see,' Ayla stated.  
  
---  
  
'What are we looking for?' Haisha questioned, examining the remains of  
the slivers of couch. She picked up a two silver crossbow bolts and  
scrutinized them with eye as much as mystic sense. Upon finding  
nothing, she dropped them, standing to face her mentor.  
  
'Anything. I'm hoping she left some kind of trace spell...'  
  
'Can she do that? It doesn't look like she was here very long. Not  
that I have your weaving experience.'  
  
'Of course. She was a very talented mage. Her wind powers were only an  
extension of her wind elemental abilities...'  
  
'I knew that. How long ago was she initiated?'  
  
'It's been a month. What I fail to comprehend is why her crystal  
didn't... ah!' she exclaimed, grasping a thumb tack and holding it  
with a smile. 'Here we go.'  
  
'What? That's it?' Haisha blinked, staring curiously at the ordinary  
looking object.  
  
'Hai,' she nodded, reciting a few words, at which point the thumb tack  
became a small green orb. She closed her eyes, and the orb began to  
seethe light. An image of a young woman's face appeared above it, cut  
off at the unclothed shoulders.  
  
'What's with the tripped out background?' Haisha queried, giving the  
cross between a football, baseball, and soccer field floating  
erratically sideways a strange look as unusually large balls from each  
game floated suspended in mid air across the field. Nasura's eyes  
drifted open.  
  
'There's only one method... a chancy and risky one at that, but...  
this was woven on the subconscious level,' she decided seriously.  
'Like a dream.'  
  
'Okay, so I guess that explains the background... but good Goddess!  
How?'  
  
Nasura said nothing.  
  
'I guess I misjudged her,' Haisha admonished. 'She's tough.'  
  
'That is precisely why I chose her Haisha-chan,' Nasura elaborated  
needlessly. Haisha set her with sorrowful gaze and nodded.  
  
The image glancing about as Nasura muttered invoking tones, then  
glanced towards between the two awaiting women.  
  
'Nasura! Oh I hope it's you who found this message, and not one of  
Uraki's shadowlings. Not much of a chance of that. Only the clones'  
senses are fine enough to detect this. So, I've been captured, but  
then, I guess that's kinda obvious now,' she laughed. Suddenly, the  
jubilant expression was slain. 'I've killed. Not just Asa, Inasu and  
Thanus... I'm sorry, but I know he won't make it. My power is superior  
now, increased by the NegaForce like it is. He doesn't stand a chance.  
None of them did. I've probably killed six or more now. I'm not  
sure...' she paused and put her hands to her head as if seeking the  
pressure points of a headache. 'It's getting harder to fight off the  
spell. I guess I should just finish this so you can stop me. By the  
time you get this, you'll have chosen your senshi because there's no  
one left. Uraki-Ayo was precise in forcing the issue. Don't  
underestimate him, sensei, or me. I've been given a Galleon Trident. I  
know, it's pretty major stuff. Not much chance of you beating me  
without killing... uh...' she gazed downwards for a moment. 'Well, I  
knew what I was doing when I accepted the Knighthood. This is what  
it's all about, right?'  
  
She paused for a wistful, somewhat lost expression. Then shook her  
head tiredly and resumed:  
  
'Anyway, you should know I've only personally killed four of the  
candidates. I know it's lame, but what am I supposed to say?! I lose  
more of myself the longer the spell stays on me. I'm in a bloody heap  
of trouble here...! oh hell. Uraki-Ayo-sama... sama? Damn! You see?  
Even if you do somehow manage to save me, it might not even matter! I  
guess none of this will if that happens. Okay, enough talk like that  
Xalia! How about telling them how to beat us safely? Well, yeah,  
right. It is possible. You see, Uraki put a collar on me to make sure  
I don't turn on him. I'm nearly as strong as he is now, and could hurt  
him pretty seriously. If you can shatter the collar... don't ask me  
how, he said it's indestructible. Mentioned something about there  
being runes on it, or something. I'm hoping you'll understand what  
that means, Kei. If you can destroy that, or use a Break Spell, I  
won't be a danger to you, and you can disenchant me.'  
  
Nasura bowed her head, knowing the deadly spell might be the only way,  
and not enjoying the knowledge of it a single bit.  
  
'That's all I can do. Oh, yeah, right... Watch yourself. Uraki may set  
me after you. Actually, I'm quite certain he will, since the clones  
aren't quite ready to take you on. I do mean you, Nasura. He figures  
I'm strong enough now. As for the clones, you should warn your senshi  
against them. They've been given the task of individually taking out  
each Neo Senshi. They're tough enough to do it, too. Haisha will have  
already been attacked by now. I hope she's okay.'  
  
'Yeah, fan-frickin-tastic, no thanks to you,' Haisha remarked. 'Was  
she responsible for the clones?'  
  
Nasura shook her head vaguely with a slight, ill-inspired shrug.  
  
'I don't know how he made the clones, but I've tried to send those who  
won't have any advantage other than raw power. Jisuruka is getting  
suspicious, so she might override my commands. If she does, there's  
nothing I can do. She's closer to Uraki and even I am. She's the only  
major obstacle I face. She's really creepy...  
  
'Um, anyway, I'm running out of manna, so I have to end this spell.  
All I can ask is that you do the best you can. If you have to kill me  
to save the others, then... well, you know. Just do it. I'm hoping  
things go right. Or, something, or whatever...  
  
'Goodbye Nasura-san. Whatever happens, I trust you.'  
  
The image died as she bowed her head. Nasura no longer gazed upon it,  
her head similarly poised, silent tears streaming down her reddened  
cheeks...  
  
---  
  
'Where has she gone!?' he cried. The four young women who stood before  
him had each a unique reaction: The brunette flinched, wringing her  
gauntleted hands, a frightened expression marking her face. The blue  
haired girl snarled as her auric power peaked, causing the other girls  
to step back. The remaining two, a raven haired girl - who's s arguing  
with Jisuruka ceased, the last girl of a trademark infringing purple  
odango atama.  
  
'Curse that wretched girl!'  
  
'You cannot of have honestly expected her to maintain her alliance,'  
Jisuruka stated evenly.  
  
'No. As a matter of fact, Yanei has exceeded my expectation. That is  
the curse of the matter,' he snarled. The expression faded, to be  
replaced by an earnest smile. 'I am proud of her. To have eluded me  
portrays cunning I did not believe she had. Cunning you four,' he spat  
vehemently. 'Most of all your dead sister, fail to show me. We are  
very close to ending this war. Mistakes cannot be afforded!'  
  
'What about the spooked multitude?' the blue haired girl requested.  
  
'Slaughtering thousands of humans at once would be foolhardy. We need  
their life force to survive. Killing them all would dramatically  
shorten the duration of our reign,' he growled. 'Even if we had such  
resources. Which we do not.'  
  
'Panji just wants to play with the senshi,' the midnight haired girl  
grinned.  
  
'Ah, well, that is understandable. While I hardly advocate needless  
torture, she has earned it. Such betrayal I cannot tolerate.' He  
turned and approached the battered and bound young woman who winced  
weakly at the protrusion of dark iron through her midsection.  
  
'You see Xalia? I have kept my end of the bargain. This is the result  
of your treachery. Did you honestly believe that such a simple spell  
would elude me?'  
  
She could not meet his eyes, for she could not move her face, the lips  
of which were locked to Panji's. Consummate hatred glowered within her  
soul.  
  
'"Cie la vie," as the humans say,' he stated coldly, turning away from  
the badly wounded young woman, in both physical and emotional terms.  
  
'I never trusted her,' Jisuruka remarked.  
  
'Then you believe the alliance was a mistake?'  
  
She floundered in place, gazing about for support, and upon finding  
none, lowered her eyes submissively.  
  
'No Uraki-Ayo-sama. No. Forgive me.'  
  
'No Jisuruka,' he said, his voice gaining an interested tone. 'Explain  
to me your reasoning.'  
  
She blinked at him, stunned, then realized she had just received an  
order.  
  
'Omae-sama, I am worried she has cost us time and energy we do not  
have to spare. The Inner Senshi seem limitless!'  
  
'A valid concern, I admit, but do not worry about that which you fail  
to comphrend in its entirety. You have other matters to attend.'  
  
'Hai. If it is your desire,' she paused, gazing on as the blue and  
black haired girls had their way with the weakly struggling Xalia. 'I  
understand she's strong?'  
  
'Quite,' Uraki-Ayo agreed. 'Her strength was yours twofold. She would  
be a fair challenge for you to defeat at full strength. No matter! You  
may each have a turn with her. Jisuruka and I must leave to discuss  
other plans.'  
  
As they proceeded apace, the young woman's vitality was renewed by the  
ignition of humiliation and sun paling agony, and the verbal  
expression of it in languishing moans and pleas for mercy.  
  
Jisuruka frowned behind the pneumatically closing door of iron and  
manna.  
  
'She's very pretty. A hyperactive, sweet girl. It's not her fault she  
was chosen by the Kei.'  
  
'On the contrary, it is very much her fault. She summoned and executed  
every skill and talent in her grasp to achieve the status of Neo  
Senshi. If she had not, Nasura simply would have selected another.  
Nonetheless, she was the first, and is to be the last. Nasura is aware  
of her subterfuge, and attempts even now to seek a method of rescuing  
her. Her attitude regarding this matter puzzles me. Before long she  
will be dead. I really fail to see how she might be worth the  
trouble.'  
  
Uraki-Ayo neared a redwood throne and carefully placed himself upon  
it.  
  
'I think it is due to her loyalty. Such allies are worth preserving,  
if one has the resources. Uraki-san, I offer, in that light, that she  
may make a useful pawn. Another lever with which to tip the scales?'  
  
'As I have repeatedly stated, we may not have the resources to ensue  
such a ploy, but time will tell. If you deem it of strategic value, I  
will keep her. Keep in mind that your senshi will pay the cost should  
it not prove wise. You know as well as I the chances of defeat are  
equal on each side of the confrontations yet to occur.'  
  
'Of course Uraki-sama,' Jisuruka bowed respectively.  
  
'Even this unexpected variable does not alter the odds. The Bishojo  
Sailor Senshi's advancement has upset the balance too greatly.'  
  
'Omae-sama?' Jisuruka puzzled, approaching the ages old leader and  
sitting upon his lap.  
  
'They are angels now, Jisu-chan,' he explained gently, resting his  
hand upon her naked thigh and caressing it softly. 'They are holy  
beings, with power enough to annihilate any total force I can send at  
once, given our limited resources. Even the clones are not so  
powerful. I could not have prepared for this!' he snarled, smacking  
his fist on Jisuruka's thigh, who uttered out faintly as the bone  
under her flesh cracked.  
  
'Forgive me Jisu-chan,' he whispered, chastising himself internally as  
he took several calming breaths. He began caressing her thigh again,  
but with greater effort, letting a spell heal the damage done by his  
rampant temper. 'You have not been unkind to me. This was not  
warranted.'  
  
She bit her lip, and bowed her head.  
  
'It is my fault. If I had known, you would not have become angry.'  
  
She pushed a hand under his cloak, and reached to push his hood away.  
  
'Listen child! Do you not hear me? This is pure foolishness,' he  
growled faintly, removing her hand from his hood. 'You do not deserve  
the brunt of my temper. Moreover you know better. There is no source  
in this realm which could have informed you before I had.' :Mostly  
because I have seen your spies slain, and you know it: 'Forget the  
womanly nonsense in your head and listen to my words.'  
  
Jisuruka did not seem fazed as she retreated her hands, clasping them  
in her lap.  
  
'I have decided that you are to pose as a Neo Senshi, and undermine  
them. Though it is clear Nasura is aware of the situation, I believe  
she will not be able to refuse you.'  
  
'Omae-sama, I fail to understand,' Jisuruka blinked.  
  
'You must assume the appearance of a defector. Nasura will offer you  
asylum, even though she is well aware of your past deeds. It is not in  
their manner to refuse the needy. Do you understand?'  
  
'Hai Uraki-Ayo,' Jisuruka nodded, hiding her nervousness. It would  
have to be a fairly dire situation for her to betray the NegaForce.  
She knew she would have to suffer near deathly wounding to gain  
Nasura's sympathy. Hardly a mollifying thought.  
  
'Also, I would appreciate it if you could locate and terminate Yanei.'  
  
Jisuruka nodded simply, straining to contain her reservations.  
  
'And the odds?'  
  
Uraki-Ayo smirked self-applaudingly.  
  
'Yanei poses absolutely no threat. I simply abhor loose ends. As for  
the young senshi, I can make you the match of any one of them. That  
will come later. For now, you may let that womanly nature of yours do  
as it will.'  
  
A smile met her lips as she slipped his hood away and slid open his  
cloak, laying a generous kiss upon his crackled and worn lips...  
  
---  
  
'What happened to Makoto?' Masurani demanded.  
  
'I wish I knew... she's so...'  
  
'Glorious?' Naritha suggested, coining the point precisely.  
  
'Hai. Glorious,' Ayla agreed.  
  
:Makoto?:  
  
Stifling the tired look on her face, she turned to Hanlan, who  
regarded her with a concerned expression.  
  
:Uhm, yeah...?:  
  
He frowned.  
  
:You're dead tired babe. No foolin' me: She looked away from him. He  
was right. Sleep had eluded her for a near fortnight.  
  
:What can we do, Han? I can't just let them fight this alone. They  
need the morale boost:  
  
:Yeah, but you can't push yourself, either. I'm not just gonna watch  
ya fall apart; his thick hand touched her shoulder. :Even if y' are  
immortal now... Even angels have limits:  
  
:Unfortunately:  
  
:Listen darlin', you know what matters? Just you and me. I married you  
because I couldn't give a damn about anything else but you. The  
Coalition, the D-Bees, the slums, the slaver witch and that silly  
dragon...:  
  
:They're nothing:  
  
:That's right babe. Zip. Zilch. Nada. So quit thinkin' and let's find  
our happy ending... okay?:  
  
She shook her head in an attempt to stay the fatigue gripping at her.  
Silence lent Hanlan another unusually sensitive thought:  
  
:Just take it easy, okay? Just let me do most of the fighting:  
  
Her eyes met his.  
  
:Yeah, right; she replied sarcastically.  
  
:You know what I mean, sexy:  
  
Slowly, she nodded, finding it hard to relent.  
  
'Makoto! You ready?' Ayla called back.  
  
She answered an affirmative in reply. Internally, she prayed that she  
was as her body failed to answer the conviction of her will. Before  
them lay a twisting tower of colour, shaping the sky as if wrought by  
the hands of a drug infused surrealist artist. The five senshi reeled  
from the potency of the dark essence leaking through the portal.  
  
'This is it, right? When does the party start...?'  
  
Ayla shook her head uselessly.  
  
There was a sudden wash of cold like the onset of a wall of winter  
clouds, bringing with it an abrupt temprature drop of nearly ten  
degrees. All eyes centered on the black eye of the swirling mass of  
dark energy.  
  
'I guess that's our cue!' Masurani cried as a swarm of shadow-like  
creatures descend abruptly upon them. The searingly low hallowing war  
cry of the shadowlings was accompanied by the already bloodied edges  
of claws and other weapons as the first strike fell.  
  
Ayla estimated a rough fifty or so, and was hard pressed to determine  
if they were overpowered. There was no telling the degree of their own  
comparative strength, and that of Makoto and her love. She found  
herself dodging frantically the strike of many a demon, and not all of  
them successfully. Masurani's design proved to field most of the  
damage, but failed to take into account the more tender parts of the  
anatomy. She made a note to herself - if she lived through the battle  
- to add padding.  
  
Makoto responded like lightning, her rune sword swiftly dismembering  
the nearest enemy. Masurani followed suit, drawing her own iridescent  
Bo into existence and delivering some impressive damage. Hanlan,  
albeit with a fair degree of comparative sluggishness, brought his  
club into action, crushing several of the creatures with his initial  
attack. The pressed-into-combat Naritha seemed to manage with her  
gauntleted fists alone, even though she simply and aptly avoided a  
half dozen unorganized strikes.  
  
"You weren't kidding, were you Sailor Titan?" Ayla called, ducking a  
deftly delivered clawed strike. She forgot the awkwardness of using  
the unfamiliar Neo Senshi name, favoring the privacy of the reference.  
  
'Ki-HA!' Masurani cried, pushing her hands forward to release a burst  
of fire-like energy. 'Me? Kid you? Heck no,' she replied with steep  
inwardly drawn breath and curt glance at her friend. 'Sailor Seraph is  
one tough gal!'  
  
As the horizon of the battle lit the edge of each senshi's mind, it  
rather appeared that they would be able to hold the unending stream of  
demons. Until, they realized, that even as the creatures were  
defeated, the number was replenished, and after several minutes,  
increased.  
  
'This isn't exactly working out the way I planned it!' Ayla declared  
over the sounds of battle. 'Not that I actually had time to...'  
  
'Hai, Sailor Sol!' Makoto agreed. She lowered her head and sword,  
pointing it towards twenty or so approaching demons. A red light  
gathered at the red-grey razor edging of the blade, and then focused  
forward in a simple beam, incinerating everything in the path it  
constructed through the wall of shadowy beasts. Masurani and Ayla both  
seemed stunned. Han, on the other hand, bellowed a very male cheer.  
  
'Now is not the time for admiration!' Makoto called, curtailing their  
distraction. In response, Sailor Titan merely smirked. She applied her  
fist to one of the demons, adding a pair of words to her strike:  
  
'Stone Fist!'  
  
The creature suddenly became a statue of incredible detail before  
falling several hundred feet to shatter on the street below.  
Impressed, she continued with that approach, sans attack phrase.  
  
'Light Spire!' Ayla hollered, gesturing towards the nearest demon,  
which screamed inhumanly as it was consumed by a pillar of blinding  
luminescence. Naritha gripped an iridescent shield, and stepped up her  
mode of combat by disabling the occasional opponent with carefully  
discerned attacks.  
  
'Sailor Titan! Cover Sailor Seraph!' Ayla ordered. It instantly  
occurred to her that the level of war had been temporarily brought to  
an even state. Their battle status was relinquished to a mere  
temporary condition due to the further increase of shadowlings, which  
seemed to double. The combat wore on, and Ayla noted an untimely  
weakness constraining Makoto, who had demonstrated the greatest  
prowess in this small war. Consumed by her own unceasing opponents,  
she lacked the ability to offer assistance. Separated from the others,  
Makoto's fatigue finally overtook her, and her strength waned.  
  
:Makoto! Flee!; Ellison warned. Unfortunately, one of the creatures  
removed the sword from her slackened grasp with a solid blow. A pair  
of demons took her arms, holding her, as a third struck at her  
stomach.  
  
Masurani's anger spiked as she watched Makoto's restraint. She  
attempted to carve a path through the unyielding creatures with  
several bolts of focused chi. Yet, they replaced those vaporized in  
such a manner that seemed to indicate they were aware of her targets.  
There was a blur of light, and the shadowling holding Makoto's right  
arm washed away as it absorbed the creature. With an easy throw,  
Makoto propelled the second some distance away, her strength fueled by  
unconcealed rage.  
  
'Sensei!' Masurani gasped.  
  
A tall, thickly muscled man adorned in an orange gi smiled towards her  
darkly - yet warmly, his thick black eyebrows set to match the stern  
expression of his face.  
  
'Good evening Masurani!" he responded affectionately as he relaxed  
into an offensive stance. "What's going on?' His voice betrayed his  
intense look by portraying the stark calmness and pleasantry of his  
disposition.  
  
'It's a long story, I'm just glad you're here!' Masurani stated  
openly, taking advantage of the demons' pause. Her Bo segmented the  
six before her by the time they realized that the stranger was not on  
their side.  
  
'Well, maybe you'll find some time to tell me about it.' He pressed  
his hands together, palms faced towards a target, which he vaporized  
in short order with an energy bolt, along with the dozen others within  
its path. 'I guess I didn't make it back.'  
  
She looked puzzled.  
  
'What? What do you mean?'  
  
'Home,' he said plainly. His body became a tornado of fists and feet  
as he proceeded to level the opposing army. Over eighty shadowlings  
fell, dropping like ill-trained white belts. After the passage of mere  
seconds, he halted, and said; 'Your training was finished so I tried  
to get home, but I guess I didn't make it...'  
  
Masurani nodded seriously.  
  
'Gomen nasai, sensei.'  
  
'That's okay,' he shrugged, zen-style. 'I would have helped anyway.'  
  
They gathered about the stranger.  
  
'Masu-chan! You mean you know this...' Ayla's voice faded as she gazed  
at him. She blushed harshly. 'Gomen!'  
  
He shrugged, pleasant smile warming his face.  
  
'That's okay. Uh, I suppose you're Masurani's friends?'  
  
'Hai,' she nodded. 'Since we were very young. She - um - never told me  
you were so...' she cleared her throat, eyes wide. 'Um, I mean...  
about you.'  
  
She giggled nervously. It was Masurani's turn to blush.  
  
'Well, um... Okay, everyone, this is Goku. Goku, this is Kino Makoto.'  
  
'Ireson Kino Makoto,' she corrected pointedly.  
  
'Oh!' Masurani gasped with a blink and a smile. 'Gomen nasai  
Makoto-san.'  
  
'Nevermind,' she replied.  
  
'Good evening,' Goku bowed. She bowed at the waist in reply.  
  
'Um, that's... um...'  
  
"Uh, Hanlan Ireson," Han supplied with a slightly irritated  
expression. "If ya dig I'm not Japanese, eh?"  
  
'Sure,' Goku bowed, looking vaguely puzzled, then sighed indifference.  
  
'Hai. Then there's Naritha,' who bowed as Goku did. She blushed, and  
giggled anxiously. Goku merely smiled.  
  
'So what's going on here? What's with all the demons?'  
  
'Invasion,' Makoto supplied frankly. 'By the way... um, Goku-san,  
thank you for helping me.'  
  
He squinted at her for a moment, then spoke in gauged, serious tones.  
  
'Are you an angel?'  
  
"Like frickin' lightning, ain't ya?" Hanlan muttered. "Too bad yer  
brain ain't as fast as yer fist!"  
  
:Hanlan, he means well:  
  
:I knew that Mako-babe, but how can a guy be so flippin' strong and so  
flippin' stupid?:  
  
:Does it bother you that you see yourself in him that much?; she  
inquired, though not unkindly.  
  
:Uh... what'ya mean, babe?:  
  
:You want to know why I fell for you, buster?:  
  
:Sure. I told you. Looks, brains, and kick-ass fightin' skill:  
  
:Because you treated me with respect. Even when you refused the idea  
that I could defend myself:  
  
:What, it's that damned simple? You ain't kiddin'?:  
  
Makoto merely glanced at him for a solitary instant, lending Hanlan a  
reassurance he had not previously been privvy to. By the love of his  
life, he had been told that even in his worst days, he had offered a  
very rare, and honorable thing. It was to him a very worthy treasure.  
So, even as Makoto broke their short lived conversation to answer  
Goku's smoldering question, Hanlan drifted over to her and wrapped an  
arm about her waist, smiling without restraint.  
  
'Hai.'  
  
'Why are you here?'  
  
In a world separate from the war, the mindless violence, the  
threatening evil, Makoto answered his question with a peace of soul  
that stilled all onlookers.  
  
'I am here to defend all that I have loved, and to protect the future  
of this world. I know you have done no less in all you have come  
through.'  
  
He blinked slowly, as if in reply. Han wafted over to him. The two  
made for an impressive comparison: Hanlan, a tough looking thug of  
unmistakable physical prowess, standing over the more attractive Goku  
who represented the shorter, faster, while still remarkably muscled  
fighter.  
  
'So just who are you anyway,' Hanlan demanded, not bothering to bear  
kid gloves. 'How'd you truss up those shadowthings so damned fast  
anyway?'  
  
'That's another thing!' Ayla agreed.  
  
Goku did not seem at all intimidated by Hanlan's greater stature. He  
pressed a hand to the back of his head with a well mannered smile and  
laughed, 'Can I help it if I'm strong?'  
  
'Strong!?'  
  
Masurani laughed along with him.  
  
'Nasura should be back soon,' Ayla offered. 'When she gets back, we  
can talk.'  
  
'That's fine. It will be a while before the next wave arrives,' Makoto  
explained.  
  
'How long?' Ayla questioned tensely.  
  
'Ten to twelve hours. Maybe longer.'  
  
'Oh, okay,' Goku replied, relaxing. 'Can I get some food then? I'm  
starving!' 


	37. Summary Aftermath

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 36: Summary Aftermath  
  
Ayla surmised that her Mom was probably dying of worry, and suggested  
that Masurani bring the three to her place while she "broke the news."  
She tamed her protestations with the rationale of what alternative was  
there? After several minutes, Masurani conceded.  
  
'Mama-san!' Ayla called as she stepped in the front door, not having  
changed out of her Neo Senshi uniform. A short woman, some five feet  
in height, dressed in a khaki green housecoat scrambled up to her  
daughter, her stark red hair flailing behind her.  
  
'You were out there!' she snapped, both fearful and angry. 'You were  
fighting and...oh my... you're hurt!' Her tones walked the edge of the  
disciplinarian, and the concerned mother. Ayla rolled her eyes as her  
Mom inspected the gash across her shoulder.  
  
'It's nothing, really, Mama. I stayed in my uniform so it would heal  
more quickly.'  
  
'Don't you roll your eyes at me young lady,' she chided, drawing Ayla  
into the living room, sitting her down and slipping the arm of the  
body suit from the wound. 'Just be happy I agreed to let you join the  
Resistance at all!'  
  
'Mama - ow!' she winced. 'I'd never have joined if you hadn't...'  
  
'Tsk, tsk, of course it's going to hurt. It's fairly deep.' She stood  
and proceeded to the kitchen. A moment passed, and she returned, first  
aid kit in hand.  
  
'Nasura made me the leader of the Neo Senshi. That wasn't so bad. It  
was just Haisha... she was so frustrating!'  
  
'It's not good to yell at her, even if she did follow your orders.'  
  
Ayla's face darkened.  
  
'It's okay sweetie. Just think it through. You've got to be firm and  
kind.' She dabbed gently at the wound. Ayla bit her lip and winced.  
  
'Yeah, but how? You're just loud,' she laughed.  
  
'You got it from somewhere...' Osaka replied with a smirk. 'I think if  
you thicken the body suit... use mystic silk, instead of this flimsy  
cloth,' she said, picking at the suit with two fingers to indicate her  
point. 'And maybe some padding would help...'  
  
'Oh Mama...' she sighed as her Mom started wrapping her shoulder  
carefully with an off white bandage. "I know... I just haven't had the  
chance yet..."  
  
'Listen, Ayla, I love you. I'm not going to let you die out there...'  
her words fell to a deep and emotionally dark silence. 'Not if there's  
anything I can do about it.'  
  
'Gomen... I...'  
  
'Shush,' was softly spoken reply. Her hands did not stop the task of  
bandaging the wound until it was complete. Osaka Apollo heaved a weary  
breath, pulling her housecoat tightly about her slender build and  
retying the waistband.  
  
'So what happened? How bad is it?'  
  
Ayla wiped at her aching eyes.  
  
'It's bad Mama. It's horrible. There were so many! Nasura's going to  
have a hard time alone. We nearly lost, even with Makoto's help.'  
  
'Makoto?" she said, sharply inquisitive. 'You mean Kino Makoto?'  
  
'Hai Mama-san. She's changed, though. She looks like an angel!"  
  
'She hasn't been gone long, then. Not since I saw her last.'  
  
Ayla's eye widened.  
  
'What do you mean?'  
  
'I saw her today at the Shiranui Dojo,' Osaka began, leaning back  
tiredly. 'She's been taking care of Kai and Tenma for the last six  
years.'  
  
'You mean she's Nakio!?' Ayla gasped loudly. 'Why didn't you tell me!'  
  
'She only just revealed herself.' A sly smirk crept across her face.  
'Neat to think you've been training with her for so long.'  
  
'Well yeah,' Ayla agreed reluctantly. 'But holy crow she's changed!  
Um... I... I just... I just guess I would like to have known! Why did  
she keep it a secret for so long?'  
  
'Something about protecting the twins. Mai wouldn't get into it.'  
  
'I like her. I mean, I know she's still the same person, but she's so  
intense!'  
  
'Why wouldn't you like her?'  
  
'I don't know. Maybe because she's an Angel of War? That's pretty  
harsh.'  
  
Osaka gazed at her daughter, watching her mind drift and face dark as  
other events came to light. Her face twisted in motherly concern.  
  
'What else happened?'  
  
'What?' she gasped, shocked out of her thrall. 'Oh. It's just one of,  
um... my Senshi. Xalia.'  
  
'Ether Xalia?'  
  
'Hai,' she gazed at her mom resolutely. 'She betrayed the order. The  
murders... she... it was her!'  
  
'I know.'  
  
'You know?' she began at a start, then her face softened. 'Great.'  
  
'I'm sorry baby... but I only learned during the first strike.'  
  
'No Mama,' she sighed. 'It's not you. It's just hard to know who to  
trust.'  
  
'What did Nasura have to say about her?'  
  
'Nothing! She said she didn't have time, but... then she told us that  
things are pretty risky for Xalia.'  
  
'Hm. Did she tell you when she Knighted her?'  
  
'Hai. She did. But what about Mamoru? I thought he was the Earth  
Guardian?'  
  
'He is. Don't you remember when the demons nearly got in the house?  
The wards were the only thing that stopped them.'  
  
'Oh boy I remember. I spent hours setting those things up,' she  
commented. Then; 'What does that have to do with Mamoru-san?'  
  
'Mamoru isn't a frontline soldier. He wasn't prepared to fight alone.  
That's...'  
  
'...why she Knighted her. I got it. So what happened?'  
  
Osaka took a breath.  
  
'It's...' she stopped, looking upset. Ayla felt a primal twinge from  
her mother. 'Uraki-Ayo intervened, and defeated her personally.'  
  
She was shaking her head at the end of the sentence.  
  
'What!' Ayla gaped. 'If he came here do to that, why didn't he just...  
he could have fought Nasura.'  
  
'She was busy with you, and had no idea he'd attacked her.'  
  
Ayla paled.  
  
'Oh God...' she muttered, dark tones in her voice. 'It's my fault.'  
  
'No Ayla, how? Don't blame yourself,' she replied, eyebrows knitting  
on her creased forehead.  
  
'I wasn't paying attention to Janus...' she started, clenching her  
eyes shut, her fists echoing the motion as she pressed them against  
her chest. 'Akari wouldn't have killed her if... if I'd just...'  
  
Osaka bowed her head. She had heard. The final selection mission  
broken up by the sudden murder of the young woman. That, the murders  
of the twelve squires, and the sudden attacks of the clones had  
disrupted their Knighting. Nasura had then taken the only action that  
remained by Knighting the girls on her own, without the support or  
even awareness of the Resistence core supporters.  
  
There just hadn't been time for it.  
  
Ayla was crying silently, and did not refuse her mothers arms as they  
opened.  
  
'There wasn't anything you could do,' Osaka stated gently. 'You  
weren't Knighted yet.'  
  
She replied a solitary mumble of internal unrest, and cuddled against  
her. After some time, Ayla said:  
  
'What happened to Xalia. Why did she betray us?'  
  
'She was brainwashed, like Mamoru was.'  
  
Slowly, in due consideration, Ayla nodded.  
  
'What if Uraki decides to come back?'  
  
'He won't. When he came through, it delayed the expected wave of  
shadowlings. Nasura says the portal has a relative power level limit.'  
  
'Then why...' Ayla's eyes whirled. She blinked, and closed them, her  
head pounding. Osaka pulled the young woman over to rest her head on  
her shoulder. 'He can't stay here with the Inner Senshi... um, I guess  
I should say Angel Senshi, neh, Mama?'  
  
Osaka chuckled.  
  
'Hai sweetheart.'  
  
'So they're going to fight him, and what are we doing? Destroying this  
crystal. Haisha says that the shadowlings' numbers increase with each  
wave.'  
  
'Nasura will explain. Right now you've got some time, so take it easy,  
okay?'  
  
'Hmm,' she sighed. 'I'm just worried... and scared.'  
  
Osaka laid a hand on her daughter's head and stroked her hair gently.  
  
'I know sweetie.' A silence permeated the room. 'Usagi was scared  
too.'  
  
'Usagi? You saw her too?' Ayla gasped with a glance up at her Mom's  
face.  
  
'Hai, I did,' she replied gently. 'She's an angel too.'  
  
'Oh wow...'  
  
'Mm-hm. They all are... It started when Makoto was sent to another  
dimension...'  
  
---  
  
'Mom!' she exclaimed, blushing furiously.  
  
'Iesha-san,' Goku laughed. 'Are you sure she was that strong when she  
was young?'  
  
'No Goku-san!' she chuckled delightedly at her daughter's  
embarrassment. 'Those beds are only made out of wood. She was a little  
strong for five, but even a pair of three year olds accomplish the  
same.'  
  
'Thanks Mom,' Masurani glared. 'Sensei, can we go uh, spar - or  
something? Please?'  
  
'Well, I'm having a good time - oof!' he winced as Makoto dug her  
elbow into his ribcage. He blinked and glanced at her.  
  
'Oh. Okay.' He stood, and bowed respectively. 'Thank you Iesha-san.  
The meal was excellent.'  
  
She shrugged in reply.  
  
'I would've had my husband cook if he was home. He's much better in  
the kitchen than I am.'  
  
'No kidding,' Masurani muttered solicitously.  
  
'I heard that!' Iesha snapped, smacking Masurani's shoulder with a  
laughing smile.  
  
'Better move it before she decides to spar with us!' Masurani laughed  
as she got to her feet. She then disappeared in short order from the  
room. Goku paused before leaving to ask:  
  
'Would you really do that?'  
  
She nodded firmly.  
  
'You bet! I was training in the womb!' she laughed.  
  
'We should spar sometime then! You must be really good!'  
  
'Oh get going you goofball,' she laughed, shooing him off.  
  
He half bowed, then left.  
  
'Han, maybe you should join them,' Makoto suggested.  
  
'Uh, yeah. Okay.' Slowly he stood up and accompanied the others.  
  
:Later sweets:  
  
Makoto offered a wan smile and slight nod in reply.  
  
'Haisha, Naritha!' Iesha called to the patio. 'Are you okay out  
there?'  
  
'Hai Iesha-san!' Haisha replied pleasantly. 'Thank you!'  
  
'You're welcome!'  
  
Iesha took a sip of her sake before speaking.  
  
'So... what happened...?' she began hesitantly. 'You look... oh  
heavens, I can't tell how old you are.'  
  
'It's been about... oh, coming up on seven years in a couple months.  
I'll be turning twenty five...' Makoto placed her head on her right  
palm, the according elbow rested on the table. Iesha held her with a  
scrutinizing eye.  
  
'Twenty five?!' she gaped. It was plain her skepticism was low,  
however. Despite this, her mouth blazed forth: 'It's only been a  
little over a month! What happened? You were so different when I saw  
you last, little fighter.'  
  
Makoto half-smiled at the nickname of past and pleasant application.  
  
'I've been through so much... And now I really don't have the time to  
get into it.'  
  
'What? That you're married? You'll have to tell me sometime!' she  
smiled. 'How'd you meet him...?'  
  
'Like I said, too much to get into. I met Han in the sewers of New  
Quebec. He probably saved my life, too.'  
  
Iesha gave her an astonished look.  
  
'Pardon?'  
  
'Long, long story... way before this.' She indicated her wings with a  
thumb.  
  
'I'm so sorry, Makoto-san, but I don't even know what to think.'  
  
'That's okay, he doesn't either.'  
  
'You snagged a classic,' Iesha pointed out. 'Not that he isn't  
nice...'  
  
Makoto nodded and added; 'I don't love him any less for his  
thoughtlessness. He has a very pure heart.'  
  
'How can you tell? With a mouth like that...'  
  
Makoto looked somewhat reproachful, as if unprepared for her  
statement.  
  
'I'm psychic,' she explained softly. 'I know what he feels, and what  
he thinks.'  
  
Iesha fumbled her cup. 'W-what?'  
  
Matoko chuckled, amused by the reaction to something she took for  
granted.  
  
'I can read minds. At first it was just Han's, but since my rebirth as  
an angel I can read just about any.'  
  
'Am I safe?' she stammered, palms at her denim-bloused chest, a  
mock-fearful expression upon her face. Behind it, she knew, was  
genuine pause and worry. 'I've nothing really to hide, except - well -  
the usual stuff, but... Can I still trust you?'  
  
:Of course Iesha-san. I'm an Angel of War, not death. Nothing else has  
changed between us:  
  
Iesha gasped, but smiled.  
  
'Nothing else? More like everything else. You were only your mother's  
adorable daughter when I last saw you. But that was so long ago...  
before we even moved to Tokyo.'  
  
Makoto nodded heartily. Her eyes wandered to the door leading to the  
basement, and back to Iesha. 'But that's not what I wanted to talk to  
you about. It's Goku.'  
  
'What about him?'  
  
'He seems so... naive, but he's so powerful. And you seem to know him  
better than I do.'  
  
Iesha tossed her head to one side so that a dark brown gathering  
dropped back behind her shoulder.  
  
'It's not that he's not bright. He's just... I guess he's like an  
overgrown child. He's so very kind, though. I owe him a lot.'  
  
'Like?' She arched an eyebrow.  
  
'He saved my life. I was mugged by a pair of shadowlings, and Goku  
banished them. I learned later it was an attempt on my life. Being in  
the Resistence hasn't been easy.' Her eyes ascended into recollection  
as she spoke. 'He was so sweet. I offered him a place to stay that  
night. He said he was stranded here, away from home. In exchange for  
room and board he offered to train Masurani how to fight.'  
  
Makoto smirked, and spoke with a certain gleam in her eyes.  
  
'And your husband wasn't jealous?'  
  
'Well, he's no eye sore himself...' she giggled. 'Of course he was. He  
broke a few things trying to learn Goku's style of fighting.'  
  
'You mean he broke his arm... or...?'  
  
'No, no,' she smiled. 'Walls, tables, chairs. He's not a bad fighter,  
but a bit of klutz with his ken. And his kamehame bolts are absolutely  
disastrous. Personally, the idea freaks me out.'  
  
Makoto laughed.  
  
'So you weren't kidding.'  
  
'Heck no!' she laughed. 'Not at all! You'd be surprised. I've actually  
taught Goku a thing or two.'  
  
Makoto blinked, surprised.  
  
'Well no, I'm not that good a fighter! I mean in the kitchen. Goku's a  
very charming, attractive man, but can't cook at all!' she giggled  
warmly.  
  
Makoto reluctantly shrugged, not familiar enough with him to know  
either way. An uncomfortable silence pondered along, Makoto seeking  
something... What? Maybe something ordinary. The desire to settle. The  
taste of it had been sweet; nigh six years of living a normal life. No  
monsters, no demons, no headhunters, no juicers. Just able to lie back  
and raise Ayana. She wished it would end. To live with Mai again, to  
have Ayana and Hanlan with her. To settle... Makoto muttered something  
half-heartedly. Iesha snapped out of the daydream she seemed to be  
caught in.  
  
'Pardon?' Her eyes settled on Makoto.  
  
Makoto's eyes fell into focus.  
  
'Oh.. I was just thinking... It must be nice to have a family.'  
  
Iesha adopted a bemused expression for her face. Her eyebrows worked  
as something dropped into place in her mind.  
  
'You want a family...?'  
  
Makoto sighed as she sat back and ran her long fingers through her  
slightly scruffy looking brunette hair.  
  
'Right now I wish I almost didn't... being away from Ayana is almost  
worse than the idea of her being hurt or killed here.'  
  
'Oh Makoto... I'm so sorry,' she offered sympathetically. 'I can  
understand that. Masurani fighting out there... even with her friends,  
scares me to death.'  
  
'She's an amazing warrior, Iesha. You should be proud.'  
  
'She is? I've seen her practice, and she almost dances... it's odd to  
see so much grace in such a deadly art. I'm sort of clumsy at it, but  
Goku says I'm very powerful.' She paused. 'I am proud though. Very  
proud, but also very, very afraid for her.'  
  
Makoto could only nod.  
  
'How old is your little girl?'  
  
'Hmm...' Makoto agreed absently, fatigue drawing her into a blank,  
friendly zone. After a moment, she snapped back to the conversation,  
the query just reaching her. 'Oh! Little girl? I wish! She's almost  
sixteen now.'  
  
'But you said...'  
  
'I know what I said. It's... could we not talk about that?'  
  
'Hai. Gomen Makoto-san,' she breathed, somewhat overwhelmed by the  
whole weaving. 'If you're that tired, you're welcome to pass out in  
the spare room.'  
  
Again, she replied the same negatory motion of her head.  
  
'No... I can't. There's no time for it.'  
  
Iesha's eyebrow creased in concern and motherly annoyance.  
  
'The Neo Senshi won't be doing anything without you. It's an order. If  
you head off now, you can catch eleven hours of sleep. That's plenty  
for a young angel of war,' she giggled. 'No arguments.'  
  
Makoto's eyes seemed to smile as she chuckled soundlessly. Iesha  
helped her to her feet.  
  
'I... uh...' she stuttered, flustered.  
  
'No, I won't hear it little fighter. Come with me.'  
  
She felt somewhat embarrassed to be treated like a ten year old again,  
especially by someone who clearly was not her mother. On the other  
hand, Ayla and the rest were out of sight, and she realized that since  
her own mother's death, she cearly missed a feminine role model. The  
awareness of that absence struck her with painful pang. To feel that  
from another, despite the fact that she was not a relative, she found  
oddly comforting.  
  
'Thank you,' she said softly, smiling.  
  
Iesha winked at her with a plainly parentally loving smile, and saw  
her to bed. No sooner had Makoto laid her head back on the pillow,  
than she had drifted in what Iesha deemed a highly required slumber.  
The rest of the loosely stitched together group rested soundly upon  
cheap roll out mattresses and spare feather-down pillows some four  
hours later. Adversely, Iesha discovered sleep to be quite elusive.  
Perhaps it was due to the absence of Sanja. Where was he? Was he in  
danger? He had only gone to a smaller city outside of Tokyo yesterday.  
  
:No; she thought. :He should be home! Jencha Co. wouldn't keep him for  
something like this....:  
  
Unable to shake the thought from her mind, she picked up a hardbound  
novel and tried to scare away the mayhap-omen with the words therein.  
  
---  
  
'Your move.'  
  
'Hm?' Haisha murmured, blinking and drawing her eyes away from the  
darkened sky. 'Oh. Thanks.'  
  
'I am unsure if to believe you.'  
  
'You mean...' her eyes narrowed, and eyebrows knitted. 'Just because I  
think I should lead the Neo Senshi doesn't mean I'd lie.' She  
pretended to gaze thoughtfully over the marble Chinese checkers board  
and pieces.  
  
'I am psychic, remember?' Naritha chided softly. 'I know she told not  
where she went. Not your fault.'  
  
Haisha looked vaguely upset.  
  
'It was like she doesn't trust me or something. I told her I could  
handle it.'  
  
'Nasura very wise. She knows you are very, very weak yet. Even more  
than me.'  
  
'If you're a wimp than Bruce Lee-sensei is Master of Interpretive  
Dance,' she peered at the young woman. 'You don't give yourself enough  
credit, Naritha.'  
  
She shrugged indifferently.  
  
Haisha sighed. 'What are you getting at?'  
  
'Nasura have difficult choice sending us to war. We are very young. We  
sacrifice everything we are to save our world. She respect that, and  
care for us.'  
  
'Un, like any pencil pushing general,' Haisha remarked darkly.  
  
Naritha actually scowled at her.  
  
'No Haisha-chan! She had children. Her complete family perish in car  
accident many year ago. She do this to save sanity!' Naritha bit off  
the words with such severity that Haisha flinched, feeling guilty.  
  
'I didn't know,' she replied sorrowfully. 'I'm sorry.'  
  
A moment later, a nagging apprehension dropped into place, and her  
face curled unpleasantly.  
  
'You picked all that out of her mind? Does she know?' she gasped,  
abruptly feeling nervous. 'Are you going to do that to me? Pick the  
next move out of my head and flatten me?'  
  
'No. As starters, I not "pick thought" from any mind. Not unless  
discretion warrant, but even then... occasional thought bombing  
school? I would lie if say I never think same. Intent of heart say  
more than image of mind. Understand?'  
  
'Yeah,' she grinned solicitously. 'But how did you know...?'  
  
Naritha glanced away into the open air of the dark sky beyond the  
small patio.  
  
'We had long talk... she knew I might figure this in long term, and  
told after she gave senshi transform crystal.'  
  
Haisha gazed at her incredulously.  
  
'You mean she chose you? The rest of us just kinda wound up the only  
ones alive to be knighted...' she rolled her eyes. 'However  
informally. I always thought there'd be some kind of ceremony. You  
know, the way real Knights got it? No such luck with us. I guess there  
just wasn't time.'  
  
Naritha gave a small gasp in the realization she probably should have  
kept that one in a dark cupboard. Oh well, one kettle of catfish out  
of the way, and well into another boiling full tilt...  
  
'So very sorry!' she apologized sharply with a steep, yet awkward  
sitting bow. 'I know she selected you... do not be dishonoured.'  
  
'I'm not. I know she picked all of us.'  
  
'So sorry, Haisha-chan, but not sure heard correct?'  
  
'You did. I know what happened to Xalia. Ayla was right. She was  
protecting us. Chances are she's cat bait now, but she made sure we  
were safe by having the others killed first.'  
  
Naritha looked absolutely aghast.  
  
'How could she?' she hissed. 'She not able stop deaths?'  
  
Haisha shook her head soberly.  
  
'I figure she doesn't have any real control, just a little influence.  
It's a really nasty thought,' Haisha shuddered. 'It's amazing she's  
done what she has so far. Frankly, I'm amazed the little sports nut is  
still alive.'  
  
Naritha blinked, and nodded.  
  
'Even though it's turned out this way, I pretty well had it figured  
out who she was going to choose. It was pretty clear Masurani had it  
over Isanu. She was fast and extremely skilled, but lacked formal  
training and wasn't very sturdy emotionally. As for Ayla... Asa was  
certainly authoritative, but really brought tension to the command.  
Not exactly someone who'd promote morale. Ayla and I aren't exactly  
bosom pals, but I like her enough to respect her attitude. She's got a  
knack for it; knows exactly what needs to be done and who's the best  
for the job. Even I can't figure out teams as quickly as she does.  
That's the only reason I follow her. But if you tell her I said that,  
I'll deny it flat out.'  
  
'And fact would be dead if not she think swift on toe.'  
  
'Oh, sure, yeah, well...' she rolled her eyes with a vague sigh of  
embarrasment. 'That was mostly Nasura-san's doing though. Hm... but I  
wonder... did she choose Ayla because I got attacked by that clone of  
Minako? It's possible, but somehow doesn't link up. There's no way I  
could have known. Besides, she was way too tough. I certainly didn't  
have the strength, and I hadn't thought to carry any amulets with me.  
Not that they would have helped. I think if anyone, only Masurani  
would have stood a chance. You'd be toast now if she hadn't fished you  
out of that fight with Shao-Enya.'  
  
The girl of blue hair and silver highlights seemed to be ignoring her  
monologue. Not that Haisha noticed.  
  
'Well, it's not like that's important now or anything. We've been  
Knighted, and are pretty well prepared to face anything Uraki cares to  
hurl our way. So... about the rest of the candidates,' Naritha  
blinked, her highly organized mind drawing her back to her beginning  
rationale. 'Xalia's speed was unmatched, and as the only mutant, she  
had it nailed. Her elemental powers certainly aided the early decision  
Nasura made regarding her Knighthood. She was ideal: Fast, powerful,  
and obedient. There was no way Tasha could have equaled her. With you  
there was never any real question. We would have ended up with a sixth  
senshi if things had turned out differently. You're the only psychic  
sensitive to have enrolled. I really would have liked to see how Janus  
might have turned out,' she smirked.  
  
Naritha knew, of course, that she meant the design of Janus' outfit,  
for certainly the original standard would have been outright hentai.  
She had been the most buxom of the squires, and undoubtedly one of the  
most uniquely talented. Her ability to absorb the physical properties  
of anything she touched made her a force to be reckoned with. Not to  
mention the fact that any male who dared to fight her tended to forget  
their names, much less recall any orders.  
  
This applied to some women as well, it seemed, and apparently, as  
Janus had defensively - and repeatedly - explained, was not entirely a  
direct result of her ultra-feminine appearance. Nonetheless, handy -  
to coin a pun - talent.  
  
'Not kind,' Naritha stated, blushing harshly. 'Janus treat with much  
respect. More than most. I liked her.'  
  
'She was walking sex. Her figure,' she replied, her expression  
softening only slightly, 'is - uh, was - a lot like yours.'  
  
'Haisha,' she protested faintly, somewhere between offended and  
pleased.  
  
'Look, it's nothing personal. You're very pretty. I mean really, you  
had most of the guys drooling all over you twenty-four-seven!'  
  
Naritha blushed more fiercely.  
  
'It's a compliment if anything. I mean, Janus wasn't exactly a  
virgin... You, however, don't go for that, right? I think it's very  
romantic.'  
  
Haisha finally clued in to Naritha's lack of comfort as the young  
Chinese girl attempted to shelter herself in silence. Several moments  
of awkwardness drifted by on clouds as the girls made a few more  
furtive moves in their game. During this period, Haisha finished, as  
if to herself, her earlier thought:  
  
'Well anyway, I don't know about me... Thanus was quite well versed in  
combat tactics. He also knew weaponry quite well, something I lack. I  
do have my Zen-sword training to compensate, however. Helped that he  
was a serious cutie, too...'  
  
Haisha's voice trailed off into a pleasant timbre of silence. Naritha  
used the ensuing silence to temper the juxtaposition of her ire and  
the sense of Nasura's scathing emotional scars. It took a while. Long  
enough for the game to resume. After nearly a dozen moves, Haisha's  
guilt broached a subject not too far lost.  
  
'Look, I'm sorry.'  
  
'Hm, Haisha-san? What for?'  
  
'For comparing you to Janus,' she frowned. 'It wasn't nice.'  
  
'Oh. That fine. Not mind so much. Knew Janus well, and see she not -  
um - slut, as many think. Beauty, if too thought excessive, not mean  
quite that always in use. Know that she waiting on list to breast  
reduction operation?' Naritha noted, not gazing up at her friend's  
surprised expression and arched eyebrow. 'See, learn much when give  
doubt. So what your thought?'  
  
'Holy crow, she was...?' the copper haired young woman murmured, her  
opinion of the deceased young woman altering dramatically. Slowly, it  
registered that Naritha had broached another subject as she looked up  
from the beautifully designed board to glance at her temporary  
opponent. 'Huh?'  
  
'End talk of Janus. Not dishonour memory further. Now we speak of  
others, of Inner Senshi we met.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'So what you think? Makoto blessed generous, hai?'  
  
'Oh! You mean her husband!'  
  
'He is... attractive, hai?' she noted with a childish blush, the  
corner of her small full lips curling upwards slightly.  
  
'No kidding! Damn he's hot...' she punctuated her comment by licking  
the tip of her finger and pretending to burn it on her thigh. 'If milk  
does a body good...' she whistled appreciatively. Naritha gasped,  
embarrassed, mostly by the sharing of her new found friend's feelings.  
Haisha relocated a piece and gestured to Naritha.  
  
'When win war, I will find such guy, and marry him,' she giggled, as  
if the idea was foolish. 'Um, maybe. I would be much happy with plain  
husband.'  
  
Haisha shook her head.  
  
'Some guys really go for shy girls,' she grinned. 'Besides, like I  
said, you're beautiful.'  
  
'Thank you. So are you,' Naritha returned, displacing a piece to  
another locale.  
  
Haisha repeated her earlier motion of negation.  
  
'Thanks. But I'm too bossy. I scare 'em away more than half the time.  
Not that that's a bad thing necessarily...'  
  
'I not know great much about dating.'  
  
'Not great and much. That's a double - um - positive? Better to say  
"don't know much." Ah, well, being ignorant can be a good thing,'  
Haisha moved a piece. 'And bad. It can hurt.'  
  
'That why I wait. Not like sisters... who marry young. I left to be  
KnightsMage... stay unmarred.'  
  
'You mean "unmarried".'  
  
'Hai.'  
  
'My move?'  
  
'Hai.'  
  
Haisha captured several pieces in a row, then asked:  
  
'What do you think about the war?'  
  
'I worry that I not fight well. That I am weak.'  
  
'You're a master of Te. I wouldn't want to fight you!'  
  
Naritha was contemplatively silent.  
  
'Look, fighting isn't your main thing anyway. You're the psionic  
senshi. We need you for that.'  
  
Naritha traded one empty spot for another with a single blue and white  
veined marble sphere.  
  
'I disagree. This is war, Haisha-chan...'  
  
'"Haisha" is fine.'  
  
'... Neo Senshi need more warriors. I am not sufficient strong.'  
  
Haisha delved into Naritha's eyes, feeling concerned.  
  
'Are you worried you won't be able to make it?'  
  
'No. Worried I won't make difference.' 


	38. Hellborne Furies

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 37: Hellborne Furies  
  
The sun nearly did not rise the following morning. Who could blame it?  
The idea of being conquered by a demonic race was not an entirely  
pleasant one. To be rid of the humans, perhaps. Nay, not to have them  
replaced by a more brutal kind.  
  
Iesha had attained no end of misery the previous night, and determined  
that while she was awake, the distraction of preparing breakfast might  
succeed her worries. It, however, several burnt pieces of toast later,  
failed. Finally, she - thanking mass production - retrieved some  
frozen waffles, and managed not to singe them in their preparation  
after the third cup of sleep dulling coffee. Alongside that was a fair  
amount of bacon, which disappeared quickly when early - and oppositely  
so - risers, came to greet breakfast.  
  
'Thanks Mama,' Masurani called from the small living room.  
  
'Hey, yeah,' Goku agreed between food-shoveling bites. 'This is pretty  
good! There's not much though. Can I have more?'  
  
'Not as long as you mind doing it yourself,' Iesha replied flatly as  
she paced morosely into the livingroom.  
  
:Iesha, I know your worry for Sanja has kept you late. Fear not. He is  
safe now:  
  
Iesha gave with a gasp and dropped her steaming coffee on the floor,  
yelping as she jumped back from the scathing liquid.  
  
'Mother of mercy,' she whispered, watching her with teary eyes, her  
voice rich with anxiety and heartfelt thankfulness. 'Um, maybe you  
guys should go spar.'  
  
'Hai,' Masurani sighed, setting her drink down.  
  
Goku looked around.  
  
'Hai Ma'am. But is there...'  
  
'I've got some food downstairs, Goku-san. You know that,' she reminded  
him faintly.  
  
'If you don't mind, Iesha-san, Naritha and I will have a few more  
rounds of Chinese checkers.'  
  
Iesha nodded distractedly as the remaining two young women traversed  
the fair distance to the kitchen-locked patio, well out of earshot.  
She faced the vastly altered young woman she had formerly known, the  
well of concern that was the core of her being driving her onward.  
  
'What happened?'  
  
Makoto's hesitation and bowed head made her heart leap, thumping in  
her ears as against the tight cage of ribs.  
  
'He's well, now. The attempt on your life was no solitary event. You  
were right. When I found him, he was in an ER, critical condition. If  
I hadn't intervened, he would be dead.'  
  
Iesha's shoulders shook in silent wracking sobs, face in open palms.  
Makoto felt a sharp mix of emotions; gratitude to Phate, for being  
able to save his life; sorrow, at her inability to prevent what had  
happened, and finally, anger. When Iesha spoke, minutes later, her  
voice was soft and distant, a flute against the thundering roar of a  
sapphire white waterfall.  
  
'Thank you. Praise God for you, Makoto. I owe you more than... than I  
can say.'  
  
Dread silence.  
  
'Please, if you will...'  
  
'Of course.'  
  
Feeling herself alone, Iesha let forth the passion only her husband  
had ever seen, and would ever see, while Makoto mourned in the  
tranquility of her mind. She proceeded downstairs with the air of pain  
and concern. Hanlan felt the ache within his soulmate, immediately as  
one feels a warming bonfire. He accepted her to his arms, saying  
nothing, but kissing her forehead gently.  
  
'I love you Makoto Kino Ireson.'  
  
'I love you too Hanlan.'  
  
Most of the basement had been cleared for Masurani's vigilant training  
routines, which included her Mudoukai techniques, for which Goku was  
plainly responsible. For any audience, the only point of interest was  
found when one realized that the blur flying about the basement was a  
pair of fighters, rather than a stray tornado. Masurani was faring  
considerably well, when one realized how seriously she was outmatched.  
The fight was limited to hand to hand combat, for the moment. For the  
duration of the fight, once every odd instant for so, they would pause  
while Masurani caught her breath, or got back on her feet. Each time,  
she would return to the fight. So far, twenty mind numbing minutes of  
violence had expired.  
  
It was to their vague interest that the sparring pair armed  
themselves. Masurani chose an unencumbered Bo staff, while Goku  
matched the selection, his motions of warm up easily ten times the  
speed of his student. Nonetheless, each weapon began to glow as if  
charged. Then, with a bow, sparring resumed.  
  
The result, however, did not alter.  
  
Hanlan felt much of the tension in Makoto's close-pressed, sleek and  
generously proportioned body dissipated.  
  
"She's really getting whomped, love, isn't she?" Makoto observed in  
English. Hanlan nodded at her glib comment.  
  
"Yeah. But the only way I can tell that is 'cause every time they  
stop, she's on her butt. I tell ya, I wouldn't want to fight her.  
She'd tromp me!"  
  
Makoto seemed genuinely impressed. Hanlan conceded rarely to anyone  
even when outmatched in battle. It was an even greater rarity to hear  
him concede from a mere demonstration of their ability.  
  
"And there's no tellin' how tough this guy Goku is... Man, he took out  
over a hundred of those demons... and didn't even work up a sweat!  
Kinda makes me wonder why we don't just let him win this war for us."  
  
Makoto blinked before conceiving the answer.  
  
"Because brute strength won't defeat Uraki-Ayo, especially if he teams  
up with Galaxia, as Beryl did. It will be up to Usagi again."  
  
Hanlan shrugged nonchalantly. He understood little about the  
NegaForce, but knew that it seemed to be an insurmountable opponent.  
After an additional minute or so, Masurani plodded over to Makoto and  
Han, and plunked herself heavily on the bench. Goku strode up, looking  
no worse for wear aside from a collection of small sweat beads on his  
forehead.  
  
'You've improved!' he smiled.  
  
'Th-thanks,' she panted wearily. 'Thank you kindly, sensei.'  
  
'You're welcome,' he bowed with that selfsame smile, honestly  
impressed. 'You've been training very well alone. I guess those  
techniques I taught paid off, hai Masu-chan?'  
  
'Hai,' she nodded, taking a pull at a bottle of filtered water. 'I've  
also had some help. Nakio-san taught me a few things.'  
  
'I've tried to help,' Makoto noted. Masurani all at once looked  
stunned, as if it just came to her that Makoto had been one of her  
long term sensei, and friends.  
  
'Oh yeah!' she smiled. 'You did. Taught me that power isn't the most  
important thing.'  
  
'Especially when you're outmatched,' Makoto stated caustically.  
  
'I would have to agree there,' Goku smiled.  
  
Then, Makoto regarded Goku for a moment, gauging his strength. She  
blinked, turning her eyes away as his aura seemed to blind her.  
  
:Holy...; she gasped. :How can he be so powerful?:  
  
:Even Usagi has that kind of power; Ellison observed. :Goku is a very  
unique fighter. It is, in my estimation, very fortunate that he is on  
our side:  
  
'Goku-san, would you like to spar with me?' Makoto said, stepping out  
of Hanlan's arms as she tied her hair up at the back of her head.  
  
:Looking to get trounced? Be my guest, Makoto, but don't look for any  
help from me; Ellison stated firmly.  
  
:I didn't expect you to offer any; she replied glibly, removing her  
scabbard and leaning the rune blade upon the bench.  
  
'Would I ever!' he replied enthusiastically, before doubt furrowed his  
brow. 'You don't use advanced chi techniques, do you?'  
  
'Well, not since the transformation, no. I haven't needed to,' she  
replied firmly. 'I just want to see how well I'd do.'  
  
'Okay!' Goku replied as he assumed an automatic defensive posture.  
  
She offered a curt shrug before falling into her offensive stance.  
There was a bow, where Goku scrutinized her before striking. Makoto  
was knocked back by Goku's inhumanly fast reflexes for the next  
several minutes. Masurani was the only one clearly aware of each  
action made. She noted that Makoto lacked only a single third of her  
sensei's superhuman speed, and began to wonder why she had been at  
such a disadvantage in the earlier battle. As the tai-fun sparring  
match continued, Masurani watched in interest as the look of  
concentration on Goku's face intensified into one of near feral  
regard.  
  
Abruptly, only five minutes after initiating the match, Goku called a  
halt.  
  
The remarkable warrior sported a fair amount of sweat.  
  
'Wow! You're as fast as I am,' Goku noted in an unusually serious  
tone. 'You're nearly as strong, too! That's amazing! How?'  
  
'I'm an Angel of War, Goku,' Makoto replied calmly, taking deep, even  
breaths. 'I adapt.'  
  
'Wow. Very, very cool,' Masurani breathed in awe.  
  
'Well I guess I'm just glad we're fighting on the same side then!'  
Goku grinned, bowing deeply towards Makoto, who replied respect in  
kind. 'Masurani couldn't have had a better pair of sensei!'  
  
'Hai,' Makoto nodded gravely. 'Maybe we could teach each other someth  
-'  
  
'Nasura's here!' Iesha called, but in an unexpectedly sharp tone.  
Masurani dropped her towel and headed up the stairs.  
  
'Sounds bad.'  
  
Makoto noted to Hanlan and Goku as they followed her; 'It probably  
is.'  
  
Hanlan grabbed Makoto's arm gently, indicating he wanted to talk to  
her before they joined the group.  
  
:Love; Makoto started. :It's probably important!:  
  
:Yeah, but this'll just take a second...; at which point he leaned  
over and kissed her upon the lips gently. Moments flew before they  
parted.  
  
'Mm,' Makoto murmured faintly, and huskily. :What is it?:  
  
:What'd you talk about with Iesha?:  
  
She gripped at him, holding tightly.  
  
:It was about her husband. He'd been attacked:  
  
:Oh; he replied, sounding slightly disappointed.  
  
:What? Is that it? You coerce me with a kiss to get that and you're  
not happy with it?: The faint lust in her mind-voice dropped  
completely.  
  
:Uh, well, sorta. I thought it was about you:  
  
She sighed faintly.  
  
:Well, it kind of was. Mostly it was about them, though:  
  
:Here; he offered, pulling her tightly to him. :I'll make it up to  
you:  
  
She smiled.  
  
:Better believe you will. A kiss now, the rest later:  
  
Han's face fell.  
  
:Can't they wait?:  
  
She shook her head.  
  
:No. Now hurry up:  
  
Tired of words, he pressed his lips to hers passionately. A brief,  
startling eternity passed between them before, like the stubborn hold  
of glue, they pulled apart.  
  
Makoto took a deep, sharp breath.  
  
:Sorry, love...:  
  
:Why? I'm not; he grinned as he led her up the narrow staircase.  
  
---  
  
:I wish now I hadn't come alone; Ayla admitted, attempting not to  
trace every shadow within her midst with her widening eyes. :Oh  
Mama... you were right. I really haven't thought this through:  
  
Even flying above the black Lego brick grid of buildings failed to  
ease the unsettling sense of being followed.  
  
:Oh heavens; she sighed internally, realizing a very basic calming  
action. She cupped her hands and whispered:  
  
"Blinding Surge."  
  
A small ball of light attacked the midnight calm with the force of a  
four hundred watt light bulb, which Ayla could not look directly into,  
so that she willed it to echo her flight pattern in a two second  
delay. Ayla, even for the avid reader and stern intellectual she was,  
did not enjoy the self-indulgent conversation some pursued with  
themselves. Even in the worst bouts of nervousness, she could not  
bring herself to such ends. Repeating and recognizing regrets perhaps,  
but she had a more unique method of facing fear.  
  
She sang.  
  
The tune that came to mind then was a not-so-recent chart-topper by a  
popular band by the name of "Pocket Biscuits", or "Poke'Bi". Ignoring  
the heavy drum section, and favoring the more easing vocals, her  
humming became hushed words, some of which were marred by blurred  
memory, the remainder, strengthening as her anxiety increased.  
  
'Bitch.'  
  
Ayla's voice dropped into silence like a spearheaded weight as she  
whirled effortlessly to face her verbal opponent.  
  
'Shao-Enya!' she squeaked.  
  
'You little crimson haired slut! I fought you before, and you hid  
behind your tawdry Chinese psyche-child,' the fiercely snarling  
brunette hissed. 'Do you want to try again?!'  
  
:I'm outclassed big time!; she thought bleatingly, narrowly able to  
summon her light blades in time to parry the nearly imperceptible  
strike at her breast-plated torso. She raised her knees, catching the  
woman at the hips with her blurred booted feet and shoving her  
backwards to put some space between them.  
  
'Sailor Sol Armor Henshin!'  
  
As the vicious opponent regained her wits, Ayla's uniform hardened,  
forming a shining metallic layer over the mystic silk, matching each  
colour unerringly. Ayla fell into the path of a hundred motions,  
replying each in kind until her defenses were shattered by Shao-Enya's  
greater strength. Her head flew back as a fist sent her reeling, and  
then forward as a knee met her back. Nimbly landing on a roof, and  
wiping the lips through which a sliver of blood fled, she flared her  
aura and rapidly approached Shao-Enya again.  
  
'Soul FLARE!' the replicant of Makoto declared with intense hatred. A  
burst of scarlet light fell upon Ayla, throwing her two-dozen feet to  
a stone rooftop, which she tore through like so much recycled paper.  
In a foreign room with a pair of screaming teenagers, she lay stunned  
for a time, her shattered the armor shimmering and fading away,  
leaving her scathed and bloodied body clothed in the former silk of  
the first stage uniform.  
  
'Now it ends!' Shao-Enya cried, aiming to impale Ayla upon her sword.  
As she descended, Ayla's eyes snapped open, a harsh fire burning  
within.  
  
'Sailor Sol Light Henshin!'  
  
The second young woman fell over herself glancing back at Ayla's  
transformation into living light while she fled the invaded apartment.  
Such was Shao-Enya's fury that she ripped through the floor, inducing  
further screams of terror. The feminine silhouette of light lurched  
sporadically to the middle of the room and hovered there, pulsing  
irregularly as a waning flame.  
  
'Nice...' Shao-Enya snarled appreciatively, returning swiftly through  
the massive hole she had created. 'You're half dead though cutie. I  
can tell.'  
  
Ayla's voice came as a force of energies that superimposed the concept  
of her will upon the genetically altered duplicate.  
  
I am a KnightsMage! You will not defeat me! By the will of the  
Princess, we will destroy every effort of the NegaForce to enslave our  
world!  
  
'I suppose you're oath bound to fight us to the end?' she feigned  
curiosity.  
  
  
  
She raised her blade, leveling it at Ayla's near blinding body.  
  
'What tells you that we are so evil?' she prodded experimentally.  
  
  
  
'You mean self defense is criminal?'  
  
  
  
:Ayla! Don't trust her, she's up to something!; a childishly feminine  
voice warned abruptly. :I don't know what, but keep her talking! I  
need a... oh hell, I'm on my way!:  
  
:Who are you?:  
  
'What do you know about my world? We could be fleeing a dying planet.'  
  
  
  
'She means nothing. What is a loser rag-tag group like the Inner  
Senshi going to help now? They failed miserably. Your world, girl, is  
ours for the taking!'  
  
:Oh... um, I work for Nasura. I'll explain later, okay?:  
  
  
  
The viscious brunette said nothing while a hateful snarl set into her  
attractive features. A violent crimson light flared about Shao-Enya's  
dramatic figure, and peaked at the tip of her broadsword. Another  
remarkably shorter and markedly more child-like woman appeared behind  
the first. In that same instant, she spun on one foot, her arm  
outstretched gracefully. Shao-Enya gasped, and Ayla winced at the wet  
thunk of her head meeting the oak floor, accompanied by the heavy  
thunk of her lifeless body meeting the compromised floor.  
  
"Block that you stupid bitch," the woman proclaimed with a flip of  
hair and jutting of hip.  
  
Ayla's altered structure reluctantly returned to its original state,  
before she collapsed to the ground with an anguished moan.  
  
'My legs!' she cried, struggling to push herself into a sitting  
position with the control she retained in her upper body, and failing  
horribly. 'I can't feel my legs!'  
  
'Sailor Sol!' the woman lifted her into her lap. 'What happened?'  
  
'I'm numb from the waist down,' she stated, a stern calm settling her  
frantic passion. 'Shao-Enya was sent to kill me, obviously... I was  
returning from visiting my mama, and she attacked! I wasn't ready for  
her... not by a long shot!'  
  
'Uraki was hoping they'd be strong enough. I guess he underestimated  
you.'  
  
'No he didn't. This guy's proving he knows his stuff. I owe you my  
life,' Ayla admonished. 'Thank you. What's your name?'  
  
'Yanei,' she replied, frowning as she brushed a stray collection of  
bangs from her eyes. 'Don't thank me... it's my fault.'  
  
Ayla was silent for a moment, considering the fact that the Neo  
Senshi's greatest recent enemy had just saved her life. She glanced  
about, at her legs, at the monstrous hole in the roof, then back at  
her legs.  
  
:Things could be worse; she decided. :I could be dead:  
  
The panic at the loss of control swelled, and she shoved it back into  
the pit by concentrating on the task at hand. Without a word, she  
shifted back into light.  
  
  
  
Yanei brushed her leggings off as she found her feet.  
  
'Magic. How else?'  
  
  
  
'What?' she blinked. 'Oh. Same thing. It's what I do. I owe the Sailor  
Senshi alot.'  
  
Yanei felt a sense of understanding from the nearly blinding figure of  
light before her. An internal flicker set off a learned reflex that  
told her there was more trouble.  
  
'Sailor Sol!'  
  
she commanded, not hearing her.  
  
'The other Neo Senshi are in danger!'  
  
Ayla replied weakly.   
  
Yanei bowed very deeply, and followed the vague orders with such acute  
force that Ayla could sense the guilt behind them.  
  
---  
  
'I fail to see why I tolerate such fallacies!'  
  
Uraki-Ayo, in the light of dawning retreat and failure in combat, was  
far from impressed, and was vaguely infuriated.  
  
Only vaguely?  
  
'Crippling Sailor Sol is worth little more than clipped tail feathers!  
Even less, as she will heal before we can muster the energy required  
to stage another strike!' his stormy pace caused the women to flinch,  
expecting fully to receive abusive violence. Only Tenki and Panji  
remained of the original five clones.  
  
'They must die! It matters not how - just destroy them! Do not return  
unless you succeed, for if you do, you will wish to be in Xalia's  
place!'  
  
The clones reacted sharply to the reference of the traitor who had  
recently suffered vigorous torture at their hands, and his. They  
winked out of reality so rapidly that they punctuated his furious  
ravings. He brought his staff before him, clenched it in both hands,  
and began praying swiftly.  
  
'I could not have prepared for this! With what force am I to defeat  
them?!'  
  
A vaguely familiar voice agreed in sundry wafts of tone, her silk  
dress adorned figure sitting in a dank, quiet recess. She raised her  
blue eyes and long, blond haired head as she offered a suggestion.  
  
'Me. Isn't that why I'm here now? To face Usagi?'  
  
'I would not risk you,' he lied. 'She would merely thrust you aside.  
Yours is too harsh a life for her to face the possibility of. It is  
your choice, my dear girl.'  
  
'I will. That cow doesn't deserve any of it. What has she been  
through? He was kind to her. She has everything!'  
  
'Are you certain? There must be no question.'  
  
'I...' she hesitated, bowing her head reluctantly. 'I... hai. Hai. I'm  
yours. I just want her to pay!'  
  
'Hai. Then I will summon you shortly. Please, leave me to pray.'  
  
'Of course, my beloved.'  
  
Silence was amongst them again, and though he welcomed it for a time,  
his exile of it was to be long lived. With a cruel regard, it  
departed, leaving him with his words and lust to conquer.  
  
'Galaxia, I would not be so the fool as Beryl in seeking assistance...  
Yet I know I cannot succeed without it. I seek now in the direst of  
straits, wisdom.'  
  
:And you shall have it, Uraki-Ayo Ginzui; replied a voice that was to  
his ears as fire is to ice.  
  
'I desire to know of the nearest threat to the kingdom. I would be  
honoured if you would proclaim the source to me.'  
  
:You honor me no more than you do your food. You have earned my grace  
by loyalty. Do not forsake that by simulating that which does not  
exist:  
  
'As you wish, my Queen.'  
  
:What you desire to know is this - Nasura has foretold your attempts  
to distract them. She knows Xalia will die, and is willing to  
sacrifice her. That pawn can no longer serve us. Nasura has also sent  
the same senshi you banished not weeks ago, to confront us. You,  
alone, will not gain victory over them:  
  
'Surely they cannot be so powerful! I estimated that they would merely  
delay us, not...'  
  
:Uraki! We both know Phate blocked your trace of progress of the  
Bishojo Sailor Senshi. What little missed has altered the balance of  
this war. Arrogance does not become you. Play not the fool! If you  
fail to listen I will become you, as the asinine woman I destroyed at  
your behest! Harken to this, for the time has come for me to take a  
hand in this war:  
  
A dark armored woman of a clearly superfluous, yet slender frame,  
proceeded forthwith to stand before Uraki as he gazed upon her in  
pride, shock, and unexclaimed horror.  
  
'How -' he nigh stuttered. 'Why? How can this necessity have arrived  
so swiftly? What of my final ploy?'  
  
'Use her. She is strong enough. However, Jisuruka has failed you.  
Yanei has betrayed you, and your clones will not survive to capture  
the slightest redeeming victory. Despite their power, they lack the  
spirit their opponents have. Your responsibility in considering that  
factor has long passed the point of punishment. However, there is not  
time for such pleasure,' she frowned angrily, and even for it's  
startling beauty, Uraki-Ayo fought a powerful urge to cringe. Galaxia  
continued in a voice that made the sun seem a wristwatch light bulb.  
'We are fortunate for Phate's inaction. For the result of her  
intervention, the Angel Senshi will be a formidable challenge. That  
foreign wench could have us annulled with no more effort than it would  
take for me to dispatch you. Fortunately she knows fully well her  
place. Foolish man! You will obey my every breath, or we will cease to  
exist!'  
  
'Of course Lady Galaxia,' he bowed, as if to snap in two.  
  
'Do not mistake me!' she roared abruptly. 'They can destroy us - our  
realm - our world! Survival depends solely upon the outcome of this  
confrontation!'  
  
He remained fixed in that position, hoping it would protect him from  
her rage and sun shattering fear while he trembled to the very core of  
his being.  
  
'We will prepare to unleash a nova upon them if need be!' she decreed,  
the mist of innumerable energies converging about them. 'This will  
conclude!'  
  
---  
  
'Naritha, did she happen to mention anything about powers? Like what  
these crystals were capable of?'  
  
Haisha sat, legs crossed under her, head rested on her palm, the elbow  
of which was pressed to the inside of her thigh.  
  
'Hai. She not tell you?' Naritha asked, not quiet certain she believed  
her friend's ignorance.  
  
'Sure, the general elemental flame-busting fire-bursting kinetic  
projectile stuff.' She lazily swapped a pair of pieces. 'But nothing  
specific, like how much chi we need, or use... or heck, even have.  
Your move.'  
  
The slim girl shrugged indifferently.  
  
'She not say more than "You will know when time comes",' she replied,  
her hand hovering hesitantly over a piece. 'She said crystal taps  
imagination... has abilities conform what we know.'  
  
'I guess it pays to be creative,' she paused. 'You know, you really  
should pick up some more Japanese while you're here...'  
  
Naritha frowned at that.  
  
'If had time...' she moved, capturing a pair of pieces. Haisha  
grunted, unsatisfied.  
  
'I know, the war has kinda gotten in the way. We should all be in  
junior high right now.'  
  
She nodded slowly, leaning back and extending her arms above her in a  
languishing stretch. As she did, her face scrunched inquisitively as  
she studied the board, which seemed to gain an iridescent glow, as if  
someone had planted a light bulb inside of it.  
  
'Haisha...'  
  
'Hm?' her eyes fell to the board, and away from the still darkened  
mid-morning sky. 'Wow...'  
  
Naritha jumped at Haisha, knocking her from her seat and onto the  
floor in one fluid motion as the board splintered and shattered. The  
debris clattered loudly as it ripped through the thinner parts of the  
wood structured patio, and burst into dust as it hit the stone wall  
and thicker lengths of wood.  
  
'Un!' Naritha cried as several stone shards pierced her blue blouse  
and sank into her back. She groaned and slumped against Haisha.  
  
'Naritha-chan! Are you...' she exclaimed in concern, before noting the  
pair of shadowy figures against the irregular amethyst sky. 'Oh  
damn...'  
  
Reality dimmed and washed out into a void of eerie, distantless grey,  
as the two neared them.  
  
'Tsunami Blade!'  
  
'Screaming Flares!'  
  
Haisha shoved her listless companion well away from her as she rolled  
in the opposite direction. The watery slivers of metal dissipated as  
they met the grey surface they had formerly occupied. The second  
attack, however, manifested as angry red bursts of flames about them,  
singeing and burning clothes and skin.  
  
'Stupid, stupid...' Haisha muttered with a grin, knowing she was  
somewhat immune to the fire attacks. She reached into her pocket and  
retrieved her purple transformation crystal as she rolled to a halt on  
her back, then kicked her legs up in a motion that brought her to her  
feet.  
  
'Sailor Phoenix - Armor Henshin!'  
  
A wash of flames traveled over her body, rapidly replacing her damaged  
clothes with her Neo Senshi uniform: A thinly armoured purple cat suit  
with metallic white shin guards, armlets, belt, breastplate, and  
choker. She summoned her katana and wakasashi in a burst of flame that  
extended from her clenched hands.  
  
'No, I'm afraid that wasn't very cool,' Panji disagreed, flipping her  
short hair back with one hand.  
  
'Stupid for a fire senshi to fight another fire senshi,' Haisha  
declared shortly, leaping nigh effortlessly towards the two clones.  
  
'Haaaaaaiiii!' she cried, slashing downwards with both blades,  
catching the more sluggish Tenki across the stomach with the shorter  
of the blades, and missing Panji with her thousand year old katana.  
  
'Stupid of you to fight alone,' Panji snarled darkly as she slammed  
into Haisha from behind. She tasted blood as she clambered against the  
strangely tangible surface of the grey void. Her blades tumbled out of  
her hands, and she twisted about to perceive the rapid descent of a  
turquoise fireball the instant before it smashed her back down,  
searing her eyes, breaking several ribs, and bursting a dozen blood  
vessels.  
  
She gurgled a cry before staggering to her feet, gasping and choking,  
banishing her swords while she concentrated another attack.  
  
'You want more? Tough little chick!?' Panji laughed. 'Such a cute,  
sweet girl, too.'  
  
'FireWater - BURST!'  
  
Haisha was thrown back by the elemental combination of fire and water  
that nearly manifested inside of her as the clones clasped their hands  
together. She heaved and vomited, the sensation of her flesh boiling  
sickening her to the soul.  
  
'Flare STORM!' she rasped, struggling to her hands and knees. She  
heard the protesting cries of the clones as razor slim shards of lava  
like blades surrounded and confined them.  
  
'What good do you think this will do you little girl?' Panji taunted,  
trying to unnerve her. 'Enjoy your reprieve, because we're going to  
mutilate you once we're free!'  
  
Haisha stumbled on her bearings, and found her way to Naritha, who  
groaned faintly in pain. She crouched next to the wounded girl.  
  
'Naritha...' she panted, searching her friend for her crystal. 'I need  
you. I'm still too weak to fight.'  
  
'Honto... Matsu... Nan desu... Oyasumi...' she replied in a harsh  
whisper, sounding almost delirious.  
  
'Naritha! Come on! You're tougher than this! You just need to  
change...!'  
  
'Give crystal... I will...' she sucked in a short gasp of air. 'I will  
change.'  
  
She located it, and slipped it into her friend's nigh limp palm.  
Without another word, she rose, and faced her waning cage, and the  
venomous villains within it. Fire against fire may not have been any  
more than an even match, but Haisha had the advantage... of her  
youthful imagination.  
  
'Plasma Surge!'  
  
Like a sacrificial flame, the blue surge of flame-like searing energy  
began at their feet and rushed up as if they were seasoned firewood.  
Their high-pitched wailing brought Haisha no comfort, even as she  
watched the last parts of her cage scatter, and her enemies dash apart  
from the stationary effect. Only seconds had passed, but what damaged  
had ensued, wasn't enough.  
  
They were still alive.  
  
Haisha clutched her agony sparking stomach as the clones glowered at  
her with immeasurable hatred.  
  
'So it's torture you want,' Panji hissed seethingly. 'What we did to  
Xalia will seem like nothing after we're done with you.'  
  
'Flare sh- aaagh!!' Haisha screamed as she fell forward, landing on  
her hands and knees, hot tears streaming.  
  
'Sister?' Panji offered. Tenki nodded, raising her hand to lock with  
her sister's.  
  
'FireWater Sla...!'  
  
Rather predictably, Naritha interrupted with a voracious declaration  
of life.  
  
'Sailor Seraph - Armour Henshin!'  
  
Naritha's body quickly received the same treatment as her ally, though  
the effect manifested by water, rather than fire. Wasting absolutely  
no time, she called:  
  
'Ice Spike - Drop!'  
  
The two gazed upwards just soon enough to throw themselves from the  
paths of the two-dozen stalactites of plummeting ice. Tenki screamed  
shrilly as one of the spires impaled her calf, piledriving through  
flesh and bone, and nearly severing her lower leg. She twitched and  
tossed in agony, pinned in place until the manifestation died moments  
later. Tenki spat blood, her paling face centered on the enemy. She  
shuddered in agony, holding her bloodied stomach, but refused to  
escape.  
  
:They must die!; she swore. :Either them, or us!:  
  
:What are you talking about Tenki? Look! They're nearly wasted!:  
  
:But so am I. Oyasumi, sister!:  
  
:Nani...?:  
  
Her blue eyes grew wide as she watched her sister's aura gather  
angrily about her in scarlet waves. The woman raised her head and  
called:  
  
'Luminare!'  
  
The grey void shifted and quaked as a handful of searching blue  
tendrils struck out for several moments. They retreated, only to be  
replaced by a rising blue half sphere of destructive force. Jarred,  
pummeled, and held in place, the three could only scream as the spell  
died away, vaporizing Tenki in the process.  
  
'It's not over!' Panji issued at the top of her lungs.  
'It's-n-not-OVER!'  
  
She rose shakily, her wingless flight stammering ineffectively, and  
barely holding her aloft. Her left arm hung limply at her side,  
grossly misshapen, the bones scattered. She clutched at her side with  
the other, her hips and legs mangled internally by the brutal force of  
her sister's near fatal attack. Haisha could not move to wipe the gout  
of blood that had passed her lips, her legs and arms completely  
shattered. She gave a desperate, wailing whisper in her weakness.  
  
'Sailor Phoenix - Fire Henshin!'  
  
Her battered and bloodied body seemed to be consumed in a rush of  
vigorous flames. After a moment, it became clear that as the  
gathering of fire collected itself and rose in a mass, that there was  
a driving force behind it.  
  
'No, not let win!' Naritha declared vehemently, lying as Haisha had,  
torn asunder internally.  
  
'Sailor Seraph - Ice Henshin!'  
  
The impossible twisting of her hips straightened as her body  
crystallized, becoming living ice.  
  
Haisha raged, her body flashing and tossing as wildfire.  
  
Naritha seethed, stumbling to her feet.  
  
'Th-this can't b-be right!' she stammered, eyes wide and abruptly  
fearful. 'W-we-we're supposed to b-be stronger than you! You're s-s-so  
young!'  
  
  
  
'Burning...' Panji began haltingly.  
  
the two Neo Senshi started in twin.  
  
'...Scream!'  
  
  
  
Reality ran white in a radius of one hundred feet, like a lazy  
brushstroke upon a beautiful rendition of a silver clouded sky. The  
languishing utterances of horror and soul barring agony seemed muted  
from outside the singular manifestation of channeled anarchy. There  
was a misinterpretation of reality, as it faltered and waned, the  
sheer violence of the meeting forces nearly vaporizing the Neo Senshi.  
As it was, only moments passed before Panji's pain distorted face and  
tensed, mutilated body washed out in a flare of silvery heat.  
  
Then they remembered nothing. 


	39. A Misinforming Review

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 38: A Misinforming Review  
  
'Yanei!'  
  
Nasura's voice was struck by terror for the brutalized young women she  
had teleported into the room. Ayla, Haisha, and Naritha looked as  
though it seemed impossible they might have survived.  
  
'They're alive,' Yanei breathed, summoning a scroll, and beginning to  
read it.  
  
'What happened...' It clicked. She bowed her head, eyes closed. 'The  
clones.'  
  
Yanei nodded. Goku, Makoto, Hanlan, Iesha, and Masurani gathered  
around, each emotionally stricken for the shattered young women.  
  
'Oh Ayla!' Masurani gasped, stepping forward to grasp her friend.  
  
'No, give us some room. Either make yourself useful or get out of the  
way. They're dying!' Nasura stated curtly. A flicker of light appeared  
and flashed before Yanei's face, catching the collective attention.  
  
'It's a healing spell. It's not much, but it'll help.'  
  
Goku shook his head morosely. Masurani's scowl lit up her face with a  
dark light.  
  
'Those clones must be pretty tough," Goku remarked sympathetically.  
'Poor girls.'  
  
'Those bitches,' Masurani flared. 'They'd better be dead, or I'll kill  
'em myself!'  
  
Yanei faced the emotionally charged young woman.  
  
'I killed Shao-Enya, Masurani. I don't know about the others, but  
that's at least one less we have to worry about,' she sighed. 'I did  
sense a few traces of dead chi constructs. But, we won't know what  
happened until...' her voice fell sorrowfully.  
  
'Makoto, I don't know how to contact the other senshi, but perhaps you  
might...?' Nasura muttered.  
  
She nodded curtly, understanding. A moment later, a pair of women on  
winged glory appeared by silvery shafts of light. The one, golden  
blond hair in unmistakable arrangement, odango atama, and the other  
like the first, yet long and straight, and more akin to beach blond. A  
silk shirted fellow of dark short hair and easy, calm continence  
accompanied them.  
  
'Come,' Usagi stated without hesitation. 'Minako, you tend Naritha.  
Makoto, Haisha will need your strength. Mamoru and I will attend  
Ayla.'  
  
As he stooped to take the fractured creature into his arms, she  
gestured to Nasura and Yanei to join her. Both bowed swiftly, before  
locating a room into which they all but disappeared.  
  
'Iesha, Han, come with me,' Makoto declared.  
  
'Of course babe,' Hanlan replied.  
  
'Iesha?'  
  
'Hai? Here,' she pointed to her bedroom. At which point they followed  
Usagi's act.  
  
'Hurry!' Minako snapped, gesturing to Goku, who blinked, then scooped  
Naritha gently but swiftly into his arms. As they pulled a quick fade  
into another room, Minako remarked: 'I guess it's just the three of  
us.'  
  
---  
  
A silver haired man with distinctive gold streaks smiled and nodded at  
an unseen accomplice in a small, red cushioned seat. He blinked,  
adjusted the well fitting grey sports coat, dark blue vest, and  
informally worn formal white shirt, coughed, then proceeded to break  
the forth wall.  
  
"Welcome to the 'Anime Niche Review'," he offered with an unmistakably  
congenial smile. "I'm your host, Randy Hayworth of the 'Coalition  
Authorized Newsletter'."  
  
Abruptly, another, slimmer fellow appeared. He smiled as well, his  
short black dark hair gleaming healthily. His trademark black  
turtleneck sweater ended at a pair of loose khaki slacks, one leg of  
which he pulled up to rest on the opposing knee.  
  
"And I'm Mamoru Chiba, of the 'Moonlight Night Times.' Tonight we're  
going to re-review a recent film that has met a great deal of  
controversy since it's release not one month ago."  
  
The attention swapped to the other fellow, on cue.  
  
"This is a film is based on the Japanese television series called  
'Pretty Soldier Sailor Moon.' For those of you not familiar with the  
plot, it's about five schoolgirls, who at one point defended Tokyo  
from an evil force known as the 'NegaForce.' The famed television  
series was translated into nearly a dozen languages, and until its  
recent resurgence, was incomplete. With fewer than fifty of the two  
hundred episodes released in Japan, it's not hard to understand why  
the completion of it has been met with such a positive response. As  
for this movie, which is an odd thing in itself, the idea stems around  
a "what-if" concept: A being from the 'NegaVerse' dimension sends them  
to a violent world where World War Three is just an unpleasant memory.  
Let me say now that if you haven't followed the television series,  
that it will dramatically affect how much you can both enjoy the movie  
and understand it. The fact of the matter is that it stands out  
strongly against the other movies based on this series."  
  
Mamoru blinked as attention was routed to him.  
  
"It's groundbreaking P.A.C. - Petaflop Artificial Cast - technology  
seems to have been lost in the wake of the media circle which has  
sprung up around it. Before we get into that, we'll run a brief clip.  
The scene we are about to see is a discussion between the lead, Usagi  
Tsukino - played by Akira Toshiami - and Minako Aino - Suki Yumi Ami -  
sometime after having adapted to their new home. They have been apart  
for more than a year, and are, in a sense, rediscovering their  
relationships. In this scene, Usagi is explaining to her  
friend, Minako, some of what has occured during the period of  
their seperation and exile to the alternate Earth."  
  
The two sat back in their chairs, and faced the fifty-foot screen some  
distance from their viewing balcony.  
  
Setting: A small, grey walled, tattered room. Usagi is seated in a  
hastily repaired wooden lawn chair. A miniscule kerosene camping stove  
is nearby, and Usagi is absentmindedly-preparing tea from the pot of  
water upon it. Garen is standing in the background, idly cleaning a  
black energy pistol.  
  
Usagi (to Minako): But you... you're an assassin!  
  
Minako stands and approaches the window.  
  
Minako: So... I'm not going to curl up and die! You know how many  
times I've nearly died here? Being Sailor Venus is the only thing  
that's saved me. I wouldn't even... have my virginity.  
  
Usagi: Oh God.  
  
Minako: We had it easy back home. The NegaForce wouldn't stand a  
chance in a place like this. (She pauses, caught by Usagi's expression  
of pain.) What? Usagi?  
  
Usagi: I don't... I'm not...  
  
Minako is silent.  
  
Usagi (to Garen): Would you leave us for a moment?  
  
Garen: Why? I know what happened. Heck, I saved ya... (Pause for  
consideration.) Ah, sure... I s'ppose so. You jus' turn it down if't  
boils up too much, eh?  
  
Exuent Garen.  
  
Usagi: I was raped.  
  
Light returned, dawning artificially upon the black-red chairs and  
symmetrical aisles. The gold streaked fellow donned a bright face and  
spoke critically:  
  
"Even though I gave it a marginal thumbs up, I found it a little hard  
to swallow. Technically, this movie's a masterpiece, surpassing even  
Jared Spielberg's 'Lucid Mercy.' And though I haven't read the book, I  
haven't seen a novel translation to film that hasn't suffered. Though,  
I must say, that the screenplay was well written, if not a little self  
involved."  
  
Mamoru looked somewhat chagrined for a moment. He stifled this, then  
replied thusly:  
  
"I can understand that the sudden transition might be a little much,  
but I don't think it was badly done."  
  
"I didn't say 'badly done.' I said 'well written' and 'self involved.'  
And it's not really about the time lapsing. This movie is roughly  
equivalent to Bambi vs. Godzilla. The only reason they live at all is  
because some multidimensional conglomerate gets a financial twinkle in  
its wallet?"  
  
"Sure. It fits the rest of the fantastic attitude this movie  
entertains," Mamoru retorted civilly.  
  
"Not all of it. I was not particularly impressed that they glossed  
over what would have otherwise been main events to cover secondary  
characters, such as the rescue of Rei by her Adolphus which could have  
easily replaced the appearance of this elven character, Fade. That was  
the major difficulty faced by the director, and the screenwriter - who  
happened to be the author of the novel, Simon Woodington. They only  
marginally achieved success here. I honestly think it would have been  
a more effective series. I doubt very much it might have harmed the  
quality, for which Anime is renowned. Summarily, this movie felt too  
much like a biography that some training editor accidentally mixed  
with Super Cop and Merlin.  
  
"As mentioned, the cast consists of P.A.C. actors, and while their  
acting is flawless, as they bring the script to its finest rendition,  
they are limited by their code. The interest of seeing unique  
individuals protray characters with which we are already very familiar  
is almost lost. As they literally become the character, using script  
generated digital profiles. There is certainly no lack of controversy  
here, on any scale."  
  
Mamoru nodded, then took a breath before opening his own monologue.  
  
"So why did you give it a thumbs up then?"  
  
"Well, as mentioned, the acting was flawless."  
  
"I liked this one."  
  
"That no surprise," he chuckled.  
  
"Given the situation, and having read the book, Sailor Rifts:  
Spirit of Evil, I was impressed. I felt it did a decent job of  
connecting point A to point B, even with all the time shifting  
involved. However, I do concur on the point of attempting to scrunch  
years of history into three hours. Even though there was no room for  
them, the background characters that were missed, unfortunately, I  
felt did have an impact on the overall appeal of this film. This was  
not enough, however, to dissuade my enthusiastic thumbs up."  
  
"I don't think anything would have," Randy laughed.  
  
"Probably not," Mamoru replied with a pleasent smile. "I would have to recommend it to any fan of Sailor Moon, and anyone who's read the book. It's another shining, Sailor Moon gem. Especially when one considers the first time use of P.A.C. actors, even in the midst of legal battles rivaling the recently settled Clone Agenda."  
  
Randy answered a hefty nod.  
  
"I agree, the main problem with this film lies in the narrow band of  
audience it focuses on. I would have to limit my recommendation to  
fans of the series and those who seek to enjoy the technical prowess  
this film displays. Not that I didn't enjoy this film."  
  
Mamoru smiled.  
  
"At least there's a common point of agreement. After the break, we'll  
explore in depth the explicit violence and moral issues surrounding  
the P.A.C. actors that have had this film banned in twenty countries  
around the globe."  
  
There was a rapid darkening, which was reverted by the appearance of a  
blond haired woman sitting back upon a khaki couch. The male voice  
prodded earnestly and carelessly, yet with most pleasant tones:  
  
"As I understand it, P.A.C. actors are submitted to the digital  
equivalent of the actual violence to maximize the realism. Being  
digital yourself, that would make it as real as if I were to die of a  
heart attack right now." Dramatic Pause. "I also understand that you  
recall each violent experience you had playing the role of Usagi  
Tsukino."  
  
She nodded curtly.  
  
"Yes. In a sense I was her. You see, instead of make up, I merely have  
to accept a digital profile, and instantly,' she flickered, her semi  
formal blue blouse and dry cleaned black skirt altering to the angelic  
blue kimono accented with blue and golden elaborate detailing, her  
hair assuming the form of the appropriate odango atama. As she spoke,  
her voice had seemed to brighten by two and a half notes, gaining a  
slightly melodic quality.  
  
"And I can keep several hundred characters on file at any given time.  
Of course I have to fill in any blanks - like body language nuances  
and other behaviors, like any 'real' actor. I'm not just spouting  
code," she chuckled.  
  
"So you code yourself. That is, rewrite yourself to suit the  
character?"  
  
"Um, sort of. I don't see it like that, like the actual ones and  
zeros, but I understand what you mean. Really I just act like anyone  
else."  
  
There was a brief spout of giggling and an embarrassing snort.  
  
"Oh dear," she giggled. "I'll have to have a purge. Um..." a blush  
washed onto her lovely face, and she sputtered for a moment until  
regaining her composure, thus enabling her to continue.  
  
"As for the events in the movie that I portrayed? I remember each one  
with perfect clarity."  
  
"So what is your psychologist bill like?" the voice laughed.  
  
She chuckled softly.  
  
"Well I can store the memories, keeping them out of my active memory,  
uh... what I mean is, I put them away, so I don't actually have to  
deal with them all the time. Not good to have a wacko on the set, you  
know," she smiled. "Unless it's in the script."  
  
There was some congenial laughter.  
  
"Okay, so I have to ask; what was it like to experience the various  
stages of decapitation and disembowelment you suffered in the final  
battle?"  
  
The young woman pursed her lips in consideration.  
  
"Truthfully? All that wasn't so bad. It was the rape that really got  
to me. For some reason, I'm not able to store those kinds of memories,  
so they stay with me. Even the purge won't do it..."  
  
'No!' she rose, the word sour on her frowning lips. She was sweating,  
a cold, urgent perspiration, and ominous in it's manner.  
  
The clarity was frightening.  
  
Being alone failed to help the matter. Mamoru had elected to watch the  
healing girls, who had been so terribly ravaged. It had taken so long,  
and so much power to heal them, being almost slaughtered by the mystic  
forces they had been thrown against. Images swam in Usagi's mind, the  
finest details of falling crimson, of rended flesh, of slashed minds.  
The mental damage itself had been nearly enough to undo Ayla entirely.  
Usagi had spoken at length with the shaken young woman:  
  
'We would be dead,' she whispered, red eyes trailing over a strange,  
yet familiar Usagi Tsukino. 'Are you sure we...' her voice fell. That  
wasn't right. Was she sure they would make it? She was the leader of  
the Neo Senshi, after all.  
  
But she wasn't. Not after this.  
  
'Yes Ayla? You know what is stake. You must not forget that.'  
  
'You know I haven't. How could I? It's only our entire world we're  
fighting for in the long run,' was the fatigued reply. She took  
several staggered, catching breaths. 'I know why helped me, instead of  
someone else.'  
  
Usagi nodded slightly.  
  
'It's more than being the leader of the Neo Senshi, though. It's about  
you, Ayla-chan. I know it's not easy to ask them to risk death for  
you,' her eyebrows reached for each other doubtfully. 'My friends have  
died once already, and now we face it again. It takes a lot of  
strength to do this.'  
  
She had closed her eyes slowly in lieu of a nod for which she had not  
the strength.  
  
'What about Xalia?' she asked with some hesitation, vindictively  
fearful of the answer. "I've seen the message. Do you know what's  
happened to her?'  
  
Usagi had gazed directly into her eyes.  
  
'Uraki-Ayo discovered her ploy. What they have done to her,' her voice  
darkened. 'I do not know exactly. She is in grave pain.'  
  
Ayla merely shook her head, emotions a stirred, boiling pot in her  
being.  
  
:They would be dead if Phate had not made me the angel of the Moon;  
she thought, both comforted and horrified by this revelation. There  
was no escaping the terminating point; battling Uraki-Ayo, the Earth  
hanging again in the balance. Yet, for everything she stood for, and  
was, the last daughter of Queen Serenity, the final heiress of a  
kingdom that existed in no more than her heart, it had to end  
differently. There would be no second chance, no rebirth, and no  
abrupt savior to cull them from the razored grasp of Death's silvery  
scythe. Either they, or Uraki-Ayo would perish. She bowed her head in  
silence.  
  
:Where was the end of the movie?; she wondered. Her dream, still  
vivid, spoke lucidly. The idea she might die so gruesomely made her  
shudder, and balk. She was not infinite. Death could indeed claim her.  
Uraki-Ayo would surely turn to the NegaForce for such power. It was  
inconceivable that he would not.  
  
That led to a darker strain she feared more greatly than even loss.  
  
'Usagi-san?' issued comforting female tones. Gradually, feeling the  
vacant ebb of tears, she glanced upwards at the warm, sharp presence  
of Nasura. She was shrouded in nightgown and housecoat of grey and  
white.  
  
'I'm sorry for putting you through all of this.'  
  
'Through all of what?' she replied in what might have been clear,  
crisp Japanese, if not for the rending turmoil. 'You have saved us...  
we owe you our lives.'  
  
'No,' she negated ineffectively. 'Not really. I know I've opened the  
door to your freedom, but I haven't done it out of generosity.'  
  
Usagi blinked, and listened quietly, her mind a shut, jeweled box.  
Nasura frowned vaguely, then her face became winsome again.  
  
'I did it because I was losing it. After Takari and the kids died, I  
turned to what always made be forget: All-consuming research. In  
college I ran a small time investigation firm to cover tuition...'  
she offered a feeble grin and chuckle. 'It came so naturally...'  
  
'I understand, Nasura-san.'  
  
She gave her an uncertain look, but felt that she truly did.  
  
'I had a couple of friends who came to me... it just happened that you  
disappeared when you did.' She offered a faint frown. 'I could be  
chasing down a cure for a water curse in China right now...'  
  
Usagi nodded gently, pulling her knees up to her body and knotting her  
arms about them. Her wings shifted and flexed slightly.  
  
'I guess what it comes down to is, I feel responsible for everything  
that's happened. I've been watching you since Luna first chose you.  
When Uraki-Ayo replaced Beryl, I had a notion - even if it was vague -  
of what was coming. I could have done something. Saved you from all  
this pain.'  
  
Usagi glanced up at her, face softly blank, a startlingly innocent  
regard holding her.  
  
'Nasura, why are you here?'  
  
She flagged.  
  
'I wanted...' she paused. 'You know, I've been a KnightsMage for  
twenty years, and I still don't know why they made me elect trainer of  
the squires.'  
  
'You're strong. A survivor,' she chimed pleasantly. 'Like your senshi.  
And mine.'  
  
'If only by the slip of pinfeathers,' she half smiled, the fleeting  
humour dropping wounded between them. 'I guess after watching you all  
along, and helping you behind the thick red curtain... I wanted to  
know you better, Tsukino Usagi.'  
  
She smiled at that.  
  
'Hai...' Usagi's brows furrowed. 'How are the girls?'  
  
Nasura caught herself amidst relief and sorrow.  
  
'They will have healed by tomorrow... incredibly enough,' she offered,  
clearly awed. She shook her head with a distinct frown. 'It's been  
such a trial by fire for them. The moment they - well no - much before  
they were even Knighted, it's been non-stop contention. He's made  
things very difficult.'  
  
'Hai,' she agreed wistfully. 'And what about you? What will you do?'  
  
'I've decided to remain. Ayla is blossoming as I expected she would,  
but they will need my power here.'  
  
Usagi nodded.  
  
---  
  
:Naritha? Where is this?:  
  
It was a dimensionless corridor of grey, blue, and black. Immediately  
near was an oak table of intricate edgework. Upon it was a Chinese  
checker board of marble, the pieces of which were various precious  
stone spheres. Her eyes caught on it and latched while her body found  
the comfortable curve of the leather-bound seat. Naritha, it seemed,  
was already seated.  
  
'It's your move, Haisha.'  
  
Naritha gazed up at her Chinese friend, befuddled by the grammatically  
sound structure of the sentence. She wore a simple blue dress, her  
waist length hair casting a deep, unsettling shadow over her  
child-like features.  
  
'Naritha? Is that... is that you?'  
  
'Hai,' she smiled. 'I am psychic, remember? We are talking in a  
dream.'  
  
'I believe it!' she gasped. 'But...'  
  
'We will remember. This is the only way now. We're both too weak to  
talk.'  
  
'Weak?' She shook her head with a curled lip. 'What did we... uhn!'  
  
She leaned forward, holding her stomach as if winded. She felt ill as  
she never had before. The power of the memory was overwhelming, but  
somehow unavoidable... The gruesome battle with the clones of Hino Rei  
and Mizuno Ami. The shattering of bones, the gouts of... she turned  
her head, heaving, spitting a small welling of blood onto the grey  
tiled floor.  
  
'Haisha!' Naritha started, panicked. 'Calm down! Please!!'  
  
The world spun as if suspended in a top, and she reeled, gripping  
frantically the edges of the game board. Her breath came in uneven,  
harsh gasps.  
  
'I'm... I'm okay,' she offered windlessly. 'It's... there's j--ju-just  
so m-much.'  
  
'That is why I joined you in your dream. You needed a companion.'  
  
'Hai,' she nodded, her wind reaching a more respite pace. 'A  
companion, huh?'  
  
Naritha hinted a smile.  
  
'Hai, Hai-chan.'  
  
'So?'  
  
Naritha blinked.  
  
'Hai?'  
  
'Why bother? And why is your Japanese so good now?' Haisha questioned  
as she gestured for them to begin the determining rock/paper/scissors  
for the first move. Naritha was quiet for a few moments while they  
each turned up identical items over several attempts.  
  
'Mind if I go, Hai-chan?'  
  
'No, I guess not... you were nice enough to drag me here.'  
  
She displaced a white/grey piece, then spoke with the overtone of  
confidence and due consideration.  
  
'I'm drawing on your aptitude to speak,' she replied shortly.  
  
'You can do that?'  
  
'Not normally, no. But as we are close enough in friendship, I guess  
you're letting me.'  
  
'Letting you? Oh... you mean not using my crystals mind-ward stuff. I  
gotcha. So... why?'  
  
'What? I just... oh. You recall Yanei, neh?'  
  
'Sort of. She fought Shao-Enya, right? She toasted that stupid cow?'  
  
Naritha nodded, acting upon Haisha's movement of black/blue piece.  
  
'She saved us. That's why I pulled up the memories for you. You wanted  
to bury them, but right now it's important that you don't forget.'  
  
'Why?' she responded, creating a seemly pattern with a single move.  
  
'I'm not sure. I can't read her.'  
  
'No. I meant why did you pull my memories up? I nearly lost it!'  
  
Naritha considered both word and deed before moving her piece to  
capture, and word to mouth.  
  
'Because I can't do it alone...' she frowned, seeming suddenly quite  
the fragile, delicate creature her body portrayed her to be. 'Miserly  
loves company, right?'  
  
'What?' she blinked, both at Naritha's sudden fear and her phrase. 'I  
think it's "misery".'  
  
'I understand some old people can be both, yes,' she nodded in  
apparent comprehension.  
  
'Oh geez,' she groaned. 'No. I mean the phrase is "misery loves  
company". "Miserly" is totally different,' she sighed. 'I don't  
mind... I guess. I'm still sane, right? Maybe I'm tougher than I  
thought.' Then she added thoughtfully, 'I didn't know I could block  
you.'  
  
'Hai. Mind-wards, as you put it, can be used to block friend as  
enemy.'  
  
'So why did she save us? You didn't answer that.'  
  
'But you...' she blinked, recalling that Haisha was not a trained  
psychic. She had let her infinity split, pursuing the interest of  
question over every other interceding point. Formal discipline negated  
such problems.  
  
'What?'  
  
'Nevermind. I don't know why, but I get the sense it was because she  
was betrayed. Where is Akari, anyway?'  
  
'Oh! You're right. Where did he go? He could be hiding. That doesn't  
matter. It's your move.'  
  
'It will. For now I guess you're right,' she breathed, plucking a  
piece with two delicate fingers and making a move she hoped would  
evade disaster.  
  
---  
  
Makoto seemed to be praying while her husband held her. Masurani and  
Goku stood either side of the new woman Nasura had brought in place of  
the captured senshi. Yanei maintained an inaudible hiss from a glaring  
distance. She was still, like undisturbed snow in the peak of winter,  
her long purple hair cascaded underneath her comatose form like frozen  
water. Her healed body was wrapped in a cotton blanket.  
  
'Yanei, are you familiar with this woman?' Nasura quested, noting the  
appearance of the bird-like traitor.  
  
'Not sure,' she muttered in consideration as she approached the prone  
figure. 'No... I know her. I met her once before I left. She is your  
clone-sister, Tsukino Usagi-san. She's really very pretty too. How did  
she get here?'  
  
'I recovered her from Xalia's home. She appeared shortly after we  
discovered Sailor Ether's message to us,' Nasura explained.  
  
'Oh! The kawaii mage,' she frowned slightly. 'How is she?'  
  
'We don't know, but I can make a fair guess she is not well,' Nasura  
stated with darkness in her tones, yet no ill-will towards Yanei. The  
focus, more logically, was Uraki-Ayo.  
  
'G-gomen... g-g-gomenasai, Nasura-san,' she offered, heartfelt, if  
not somewhat uselessly. Nasura's lips thinned as she held back her  
temper and encouraged the silence that followed. She nodded marginally  
at Yanei, tension written upon her face.  
  
Usagi gestured for Masurani to step aside and knelt next to her  
modified duplicate. She placed her hands upon the young woman's head,  
and closed her eyes, slipping easily into an explorative psychic  
trance. Silence gripped Time's shoulder, her nails nearly piercing his  
skin, before dissipating as Usagi began an unconscious meditative  
breathing regiment.  
  
'She was the right hand of Uraki-Ayo, serving him completely, as a  
military officer, and as a bedmate. She is solely responsible for  
gathering the blood samples, which allowed them to create clones of  
us. She has no memory of this service.'  
  
Masurani squinted angrily.  
  
'Where did you say she came from, Kei-san?'  
  
Nasura blinked.  
  
'Xalia's home, why..?'  
  
It dawned.  
  
'He knew. It was a setup. We were supposed to find her.' Nasura glared  
at the motionless and entirely vulnerable woman. 'We can't trust this,  
can we? Uraki-Ayo has proved himself repeatedly.'  
  
'It may not matter,' Usagi pointed out. 'I can affect her mind.'  
  
'What?!' the four gasped. Surprise, it seemed, had surpassed Yanei and  
Goku.  
  
'Her mind is open, and her heart is not hardened, just misled. She  
loves Uraki-Ayo, and serves him because she believes his will is  
righteous. I only have to show her the truth, and she will...'  
  
'Lose her sanity,' Nasura interjected.  
  
Usagi was stunned into silence. Her eyes narrowed as the process  
churned in her augmented consciousness, finally resting on Nasura's  
inspired observation. She gazed at the woman, who's grim expression  
brought no comfort.  
  
'Great... so she was sane before?' Masurani snarled with dark ire.  
'She's strong... I mean major league "Can of Whup-Ass" strong. I can  
sense it. She could match me in battle, all out.'  
  
'"Can of Whup-Ass"?' Usagi questioned doubtfully.  
  
Masurani shrugged with a smirk.  
  
'American saying. Means "kick ass".'  
  
She nodded curtly, after which Nasura offered her view on the matter  
at hand beyond Masurani's spoken attitude.  
  
'If you're right about her heart, then I have an idea that may save  
her sanity, and elimate her threat.'  
  
'Oh, I could elimate her threat right now,' Makoto and Masurani hissed  
in a related phrase. They glanced at each other for a moment, and then  
fell silent at Nasura's commanding glare.  
  
'Turn her perspective towards ours by planting the idea that she is  
already a Neo Senshi,' she instructed.  
  
Masurani peaked, hackles risen as she growled ferally.  
  
'Are you nuts?! What's the bloody point? If she can just smoke us so  
easy, we'd be better off ending it now while we still can!'  
  
'Masurani! Enough!'  
  
Crestfallen, she bowed slightly, pliant to the tone of command, and  
aware that she had overstepped her bounds. 'So sorry, Nasura-sensei,  
but I really I think I'm justified here!'  
  
'You are,' Nasura replied, to which Masurani's eyes widened, mouth  
agape. 'You merely need not yell to get your point across. I'm not one  
of your childish classmates. I do recognize your concern, but I seek  
also your trust. Do I have that?'  
  
'Hai,' Masurani nodded, chastened despite her exoneration.  
  
'Nasura-san, I wouldn't worry. She's nowhere near as strong as I am.  
Only Usagi,' Goku smiled warmly at her, '... is that powerful. And  
she's not even one-tenth as powerful.'  
  
'One-tenth?' Nasura blinked interestedly.  
  
He nodded.  
  
'Makoto's ability to adapt makes her potentially more powerful than  
any of us,' Yanei observed, displaying remarkable nerve in speaking  
amongst her former opponents.  
  
'Hai. If this woman proves stable, however, we may have ourselves a  
valuable asset,' Nasura stated clearly.  
  
Usagi closed her eyes and prodded Jisuruka's scewed mind.  
  
'Uraki-Ayo has given her everything she need to become Sailor Ether.'  
  
'Ether? But he must realize my awareness of her actions.'  
  
She shook her head as if pained.  
  
'I mean Mortalis,' she said, a shiver ruffling the feathers of her  
wings. 'I don't know why I said that. Something's happened. I can  
sense him weaving a spell here. He's using her presense...'  
  
'Yes, he's...' Yanei began, then assumed a pale complexion. Her  
breathing abruptly became labored. 'Trying to Tap me.'  
  
An extremely alarmed glance passed between Usagi, Nasura, and Makoto.  
Usagi bowed her head and began whispering while the others followed  
suit. Within moments a shrouding mist encircled Yanei, who's heavy,  
almost ragged breathing began to ease. As the mystic effect passed,  
though the protective mist remained, Yanei chanced a question:  
  
'Why? I didn't deserve that,' she stated with honest, heartfelt  
despondency. 'I almost...'  
  
'Yanei, you have redeemed yourself,' Usagi supplied. 'In my eyes, at  
least. You have have earned our trust.'  
  
Yanei prolonged the silence, allowing thought to take her focus. A  
glance at Makoto told her that she agreed.  
  
'Thank you, Usagi-sama,' she offered simply.  
  
With a soft smile, she returned her regard to the still comatose  
Jisuruka.  
  
'What about my relationship with her?' she inquired gently.  
  
'Why have one? It certainly isn't necessary. It's your choice.'  
  
Usagi nodded in reply, shutting her eyes. Her face tightened, and she  
was still for several minutes. Each watched in earnest.  
  
'It would be wise to not turn the young woman away. She will be  
distressed, and lost. She will want a companion, a friend to lean on,'  
a familiar, motherly voice elaborated. 'No one else can understand her  
more completely than you, Usagi.'  
  
Usagi smiled, the light of it shining through her entire being.  
  
'Hai Luna-san!' she agreed wholeheartedly, a welling of emotion lodged  
in her throat. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, and bowed her  
head, eager to complete the task. Minutes flew by in an instant, and  
Usagi rose to face her guardian, whom she had not seen since her  
ascension to an angel. Luna and Artemis stood intimately joined by  
hands, and joined by a startling manifestation of their professed love  
for each other.  
  
A young short purple haired girl gazed wondrously up at Usagi, the  
silvery caress of innocence in her amethyst eyes. Her mouth turned  
slowly upwards in an adorable smile as she played with the wide hem of  
her pastel violet sun dress.  
  
'Hi Usagi!' she began in the placating tones of an unruffled child,  
all caring and warmth.  
  
'This is Diane,' Luna smiled, slipping her fingers back through her  
hair and pushing a shift of the purple strands behind her ear. 'She's  
your cousin.'  
  
'How old is she?' Masurani asked, smiling and waving at her.  
  
'Three months.'  
  
The expected gasps passed rapidly, leaving only questions, save  
Makoto, and Hanlan.  
  
'Now isn't the time for that,' Artemis decreed. 'We have a war to win.  
Ami?'  
  
Ami, and the remainder of the Inner Senshi faded into existence, sans  
Minako. Ami, and Rei each bowed in turn to the gladly aghast Neo  
Senshi, who bowed immediately in response. Ami began, cutting to the  
quick without hesitation.  
  
'Uraki-Ayo is as ill prepared to carry out this war as we are. The  
majority of his resources have already been tapped. With so little  
energy to utilize, he will be pressed to end the war quickly. The  
vortex crystal supplies him with the vast energy he requires to attack  
our dimension. Without it, he is nearly powerless to endanger us.  
Uraki-Ayo is no fool, very unlike Beryl. He is a realist, knowing his  
weaknesses, and exploiting those of his enemies. He believes Xalia to  
be valuable to the Neo Senshi. This is not entirely true.'  
  
A dread silence drifted over the assembled group. A gifted young woman  
captured and now suspended between the rails of life and death. They  
feared what she suffered, and hoped that she might be spared, all the  
while knowing the truth of Ami's words, even as they found it  
difficult to accept.  
  
Masurani gave a somewhat reproachful look, but Usagi raised her hands  
as the brute warrior opened her mouth.  
  
'We will do what we can. I promise you this.'  
  
'I guess I speak for the Neo Senshi, for now,' Masurani realized  
dimly. 'I trust you. I'm pretty sure the others would agree. The ball  
is in your court.'  
  
Silence beckoned and was greeted enthusiastically, until Usagi spoke  
once again, only moments later.  
  
'The five of us will face Uraki directly, and end his cursed  
existence. If it is possible, we will rescue Xalia, and preserve her  
life.' She paused. As for the "if not," what was there to say?  
Nothing. 'As for you, Neo Senshi, the Coalition Society of Mutants,  
and our mates, you will all confront the armies Uraki will manage to  
send to earth. Your ultimate goal must be to destroy the vortex  
crystal. It is his only link to our world.'  
  
'Why not have your...' she blinked at the choice of word '...mates  
with you?'  
  
Rei bowed her head solemnly, then latched her eyes onto Nasura's.  
  
'I don't think is this the right time. We really aren't ready for it  
yet. We haven't been with them long enough.'  
  
Ami nodded, and added: 'I agree. It will take years for us to  
co-ordinate our abilities. Until then, we're better off alone.' She  
paused sheepishly. 'Do you really think it's easy for me to admit  
that?'  
  
Nasura sighed, as if understanding, but not quite accepting the  
reasoning.  
  
'How are the remaining Neo Senshi?' Ami inquired finally.  
  
Nasura frowned pointedly.  
  
'Well. Ayla is meditating, praying on the upcoming battle. The others  
are preparing in their own ways. They're still quite weak.'  
  
Usagi nodded.  
  
'Better than they were yesterday,' she observed. 'Luna, Artemis, are  
you ready?'  
  
'Hai,' Luna affirmed. 'Diane sweetie, you're going to stay behind.'  
  
'I agree,' Artemis grunted. 'You can stay with Iesha.'  
  
'But Papa!' she whined. 'I want to help!'  
  
'You can, by keeping Iesha safe,' he replied gently. She pouted, but  
was quiet. There was no argument. 


	40. Hope, Against a Baleful Wind

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 39: Hope, Against a Baleful Wind  
  
In the cool, damp recesses of a great stone niche, eighty-seven men  
and women gathered, leaning upon a solitary voice.  
  
"Consider it an honour to serve with these angels, soldiers. It is  
because of them our place in a free world is assured! Think of it! To  
live without fear of the Coalition, without fear of the rifts! We can  
live as we are. Mutants, and proud of it!"  
  
There were several murmurs of assent.  
  
"The war we fight will be for our new home and new lives! Take that  
into battle with you. We will triumph!"  
  
The cheers drowned out the most fervent of fears and doubts. Carl,  
watching from a distance, smiled, even himself heartened by the  
emotional energy the young warriors produced.  
  
"Report, squad leaders!"  
  
As the vocal culminations of bravado, pride, and positive morale  
waned, the clicks and locks of armaments became an energetic  
background noise.  
  
"Lieutenant Smitty of Gold Aces troop. Class One SC-Warrior Power  
Armored soldiers are ready!"  
  
Jake nodded curtly.  
  
"Good to see you were up to the task, Trent. You will take the  
forefront offensive."  
  
"Thank you sir. We will do our best!"  
  
"Silver Leader?"  
  
A black suited woman with a confidant, assured grin deftly saluted.  
  
"Lieutenant Grenwalde of Strong Arm troop stand prepared and eager to  
kick ass, sir!"  
  
He smiled knowingly.  
  
"You'll take up defensive positions for close combat, in the event the  
enemy decides to get intimate."  
  
"If they get fresh, they'll get one helluva fat lip!"  
  
"That's what I want to hear, Dakota!"  
  
A stout fellow saluted rigidly, his face almost stone.  
  
"Copper Leader of Red Slash troop awaiting your orders. Sir!" the  
statue-like young man snapped off like the rapid report of an  
automatic rifle.  
  
Jake assumed a deadly serious expression and tone.  
  
"Good man, Jason. I expect you to take the perimeter. See that nothing  
so large as a fusion bomb penetrates your line. It won't be easy.  
According to Carl, we'll be outnumbered fifty-to-one."  
  
The stocky, urgent looking young man paled slightly, but maintained  
his rock-like composure. Jake paused, regarding steadily the fellow  
who was easily the youngest of the troops. He smiled faintly. So much  
dependable strength! It made his job that much easier.  
  
"Yes sir. You can depend on us sir!"  
  
"That's good to know, because we're all counting on your  
effectiveness! Now, Red Leader..."  
  
:By my leathery hide; Carl mused. :There's little humans cannot  
accomplish, when united:  
  
:Love, that's why the Inner Senshi still survive; Minako observed as  
she took to his side, wrapping her arms about him and resting her head  
on his chest.  
  
:Aye. I can see that. Rarely in my centuries have I seen such  
dedication. Yours I especially treasure; he chuckled.  
  
Her nod was slight, her unease and conflicting internal holy calm both  
great in presence.  
  
:Minako, speak to me. What is the matter?:  
  
She pulled away and turned to face a trickling underground spring. It  
was young yet, some two hundred years of age, she gauged by the  
strength of its flow, and presence of natural manna. She flinched,  
blinking at the crystal water.  
  
"Mercy...!' she sighed. 'I couldn't do that before."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Sense manna. It's very weak here, but this spring draws some in...  
It's very nice. Almost calming."  
  
"Really? Good. Magic can be a wonderful thing."  
  
"Funny how we haven't just talked since I became an angel," she  
half-smiled with a sidelong glance.  
  
Carl offered nothing. Minako knelt to the spring, dipped her hands in  
the water and sipped from them gingerly.  
  
"Do you remember how the CSM reacted when I was changed?"  
  
"Forget? You're kidding... it was just yesterday! I doubt I will ever  
forget, even if we weren't engaged to be married."  
  
"Hmm. They almost worshipped me. If it hadn't been for that woman...  
Dakota, and you..." she frowned. "I don't know if it's even that. They  
either adore me or fear me... and I'm having a difficult time dealing  
with any of it. I've been in the black market for so long... you know  
what some of the local lords did to me."  
  
Carl was sympathetically silent. Washes of shame, turmoil, and  
unflinching sexual abasement flitted across her mind, and he twinged  
at his sense of it. Despite her holy nature, she hurt inside. He knew  
nothing could alter her experience, not even Phate. He also knew love  
- his love - could heal her, and desired intensely to disperse her  
emotional scars.  
  
"Even if I heard Phate right, and I'm not sure I did, I've always been  
an angel. Or... was it I always had the potential to? Or... I really  
don't understand that part." She rose, hands clasped to her heart. "I  
don't feel worthy of this form. I don't feel angelic."  
  
Carl approached her, perceiving the matter as one only can at a  
distance.  
  
"That you have - or at the very least had the potential - should tell  
you something. Both are significant. Even if it was buried deep  
somewhere in there. It's like coming to age and expecting to feel like  
an adult. It doesn't happen. It's not self-perpetuating."  
  
Minako's eyes darted swiftly between Carl's lucid eyes, as they do  
when intimacy blurs reality.  
  
"But I know things... about me, about you... about the world, that no  
mortal can know..." she smiled briefly."I can't believe I just said  
that! But it's true. I understand the world in ways no one can."  
  
Carl merely gazed at her. She shrugged faintly.  
  
"Everything about me has changed, except the way I think. Or, parts of  
it. Usagi seems fine. Clearly she was ready for this. I don't know if  
I am."  
  
His smile was welcome, for the sheer confidence and starlit adoration  
behind it.  
  
"You have heart, and strength to come through this, Minako love.  
Whether you are 'ready' or not is a moot point; you are what you are."  
  
"But I wasn't! What I'm saying is that I feel like some of me still  
isn't."  
  
There was a moment of clarity for the young dragon, and he grasped it  
firmly:  
  
"What are you clinging to?"  
  
Minako bowed her lovely head, her wings flicking with uncomfortable  
concentration.  
  
"Angels can't feel pain... of rape... can they?"  
  
Her voice was dry, and the threatening ebb of tears caused it to crack  
as she spoke.  
  
"You were never..." he started, approaching her. She stepped back.  
  
"No. Almost, so many times. I broke hands, arms, noses, and I killed  
two... two d-bees that tried to molest me. I've never wanted to be  
ugly before, Carl!"  
  
This time, she did not refuse him.  
  
"You are blessed with strength and beauty. You should be grateful for  
that," he replied soberly.  
  
She averted her eyes. Carl took her shoulders in his hands,  
comfortingly, gently caressing them.  
  
"I never told you, when I worked for Valance, one of his men put out a  
contract on my virginty. He hired twenty bounty hunters, Carl! I..."  
her voice locked in her throat. "My body... my sex was a bounty.  
That's worse than if I was to have sold myself."  
  
"I heard you know," he supplied. "You knocked him on his ass when you  
found out. Shortly thereafter his organization crumbled to pieces."  
  
"It wasn't like that," she negated. "I didn't knock anyone on their  
asses. I killed the man who murdered my target... then came back and  
drew the line for Val. Even though he wanted me so badly he burned a  
hole in my butt with his eyes."  
  
Carl chuckled faintly. Her eyes flicked back into his, and settled  
there, stars shining faintly within.  
  
"You know this pity party isn't get us anywhere?"  
  
"Pity party...?" she mumbled. "What do you..." a sigh. "I guess not."  
  
"Minako, my gorgeous angel, what's past is past, though it might yet  
pain you. I love you. Your God loves you. You are strong enough now  
not to have to fear those things. It's very easy to focus on the  
negative, even to the point that you are an angel, the very embodiment  
of holiness, escapes us."  
  
"Us... I like hearing that. Would you say it again?"  
  
"Us."  
  
"Mmm..." There was a pleasant emotional meeting then, brightening the  
lost young angel's face.  
  
"I don't - not anymore - but it would be a lie to say I don't feel  
hurt, and angry."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with that. I've killed for less."  
  
She blinked at him, wide eyed.  
  
"Don't believe you're the first, my love."  
  
She frowned slightly.  
  
"No, I guess not. And you," she grinned suddenly, poking him and  
laughing.  
  
"Excuse me, Dr. Silver," prodded a voice.  
  
He gazed at the young man, then beckoned him enter. Without a word, he  
gestured for him to continue.  
  
"We are prepared to depart at your earliest command. The troops are  
eager, quite excited by the idea of freedom."  
  
Carl smiled.  
  
"They ought to be. It's a rare opportunity. Not one they won't earn,  
however."  
  
"That's what worries me. Will we really be so badly outmatched?"  
  
His expression became sober.  
  
"By a much larger degree than I have previously indicated. I expect at  
the very minimum five thousand shadowlings to arrive during  
Uraki-Ayo's final assault."  
  
Jake quirked an eyebrow.  
  
"Final? As in 'last ditch effort'? Sounds like the enemy is running  
out of steam."  
  
"They're actually borrowing ours to fuel the invasion. Part of your  
job will be to defend the strike team due to attack their source of  
power."  
  
"Right. Uh... those are some pretty freakin' nasty odds," Jake stated  
seriously. "I mean, we're just backup, right?"  
  
Minako shared Carl's somewhat shamed gaze.  
  
"More or less. The main forces will consist of the Neo Senshi..." he  
read Jake's befuddled mask. "They are five warrior defenders of the  
alternate Earth you will be going to. Ayla Apollo, also known as  
Sailor Sol, will be the ranking officer. Anything she says goes."  
  
"If you say so, Dr. Silver," he shrugged. "If you say 'jump' I'll ask  
how high, if you say 'bark like a dog' I'll ask you what breed. We owe  
you."  
  
"I appreciate that Major," Carl laughed mildly at the knowledge that  
the young man could actually fulfill the latter, thanks to his mutant  
abilities. "Your sister would be proud."  
  
His brown eyes widened.  
  
"My sister? You know Aaran Yyone?"  
  
"That's correct. I spoke to her recently..." he winked at Minako, and  
then closed his eyes. Clothed in ancient style black toned armor, she  
appeared, her helmet pressed to her hip by a somewhat limp gauntleted  
hand. She smiled at him, looking bruised and mentally scattered.  
  
"Sis'!" he gasped, taken aback by her formidable armor, like a human  
formed dragon might wear. Reluctantly he neared her, then forgave the  
armor and delivered a powerful hug.  
  
"Watch it Jake," she grunted. "I've got more broken ribs than you do  
teeth."  
  
He laughed faintly.  
  
"No joke?"  
  
"No joke."  
  
He drew back and regarded her seriously.  
  
"We gotta talk. It's been so long!" he faced Carl. "You mind?"  
  
"Of course not. I wouldn't have asked her to teleport here if there  
hadn't been time for it. We'll leave as soon as Makoto gives the  
word."  
  
"Oh," he held his sister's hand feeling the strength of the gauntlets,  
plainly impressed. "What? Who's that? Teleport here? You?! I thought  
you got Mega-Juiced!"  
  
"Uh, yeah, I did, way back... that's were it gets wierd. I hope you  
got some time!"  
  
"Me too," he replied, gazing at Carl uncertainly.  
  
"As for my friend, you can't miss her: Dark brown hair done up in a  
pony tail... hm... maybe not. She's been wearing it down ever  
since..." Minako blinked. "Nevermind. She's an angel. Like me, only  
bustier."  
  
"No joke," Aaran chuckled.  
  
---  
  
The four men were gathered over a nigh dozen drinks. Adolphus, a  
centuries' old mage of much experience and old English regard, drew  
sedately from a nearly full mug of ale. Hanlan, a man's man, lacking  
razor wit, but an adept warrior, and a man of brute force, sipped idly  
at a pint of odd tasting elven beer. Mamoru, long standing senshi of  
the earth, his former home, of much forlorn regard, attacked his fifth  
cup of traditional sake with apparent indifference. Natole, by magic  
alone reduced to seven feet from his natural twelve, a warrior much  
feared for his ability to destroy as to heal, drank heavily from his  
eighth flask of prune juice.  
  
'We're suppose to fight alongsuh-side the Neo Sensuh-shi,' Mamoru  
muttered in blurred tones. Adolphus blinked, realizing just how shoddy  
his Japanese was.  
  
"I would ask ye to repeat that undeterminable statement, but it hits  
mine ear like a stone. It seems my Japanese bites the bitter tail of a  
serpent."  
  
Natole nodded agreement. Mamoru could not restrain his guttural,  
uneven chuckle. He shook his head loosely.  
  
"Oh yeah? Looks like yuh-you need to fix up yer Japanese..." he  
grinned foolishly. "Listen harder and you might even..."  
  
Adolphus gazed at him disdainfully, certain the remainder of his  
sentence made as much sense as the beginning of it. He made several  
obscure gestures, and murmured something under his breath.  
  
"That may raise thy spirit," he offered as Mamoru felt his head clear  
of the thick, noxious cloud culled from his consciousness. "And bar  
thy tongue."  
  
"Oh geez!" Mamoru gasped, mortified by his attitude while intoxicated.  
"Sorry."  
  
"Forgive ye I can, as thy words have caused no offense. Best ye be  
wary of indulgences ye may embark upon, as they may cause between us  
an unbridgeable rift."  
  
"Uh, hai," he replied with an embarrassed expression. "Don't you never  
get drunk?"  
  
"Nay. Such powerful drinks as that be not kind to mine magic, so I  
rarely partake of them. Now, do tell us more of the expectation that  
we should abandon our dearly beloved to a villain who may certainly  
reduce them to slivers of unsightly flesh?"  
  
Hanlan gave a deep grunt, setting his bottle down firmly.  
  
"Geez, nice'n poetic, but a little much for my stomach." He absently  
summoned a triple bladed dagger and began in repetition an ad-libbed  
kata between both hands. "I'll tell ya I don't like the idea of my  
babe being sliced to ribbons, or vaped, or whatever. But she said  
she'd summon me if she figured she was outclassed."  
  
Mamoru shared a 'do you believe this guy?' glance with Adolphus.  
Hanlan looked perturbed.  
  
"What? I trust her."  
  
"Hanlan, it's not a matter of trust," Mamoru explained with some  
unease. "I know Makoto, I know all of them. It's not their habit to  
plan a battle. Most of the time they don't get the chance. They won't  
think to summon us until it's too late. Even now, Usagi's not that  
thoughtful," he observed with all due tact. "She trusts Ami's idea  
that we won't work well until we've been together longer. Which makes  
no sense to me."  
  
"Clarify, please," the half giant requested politely.  
  
"Something about our ability to work as a team. I'm not entirely sure  
of the exact mechanics. It really doesn't matter, because I've got  
other ideas. You see, I figure the Neo Senshi and the CSM will manage  
just fine without us."  
  
"Mamoru, please, what be a 'CSM'?" Adolphus requested gently.  
  
"'Coalition Society 'o Mutants'," Hanlan interjected. "Basically  
they're humans wit' powers who hadda hide from the military they lived  
in. The Coalition don't like D-bees - huh, Dimensional Beings, I mean  
- too much, an' don't like humans with strange powers neither." He  
took a lively gulp of his drink. "Oh, an' D-Bees 'er anything that  
comes outta the rifts. Like Makoto. Only, most times they ain't so  
damned stunnin' - if ya dig."  
  
Apparently elven wine turned the normally silent powerhouse in a  
running spring of words.  
  
"I see," he drawled shortly with an arched eyebrow, divining of his  
own wit what Hanlan was attempting to relay to him. "Be they appointed  
to the main force? How many number they?"  
  
"Eighty-seven at last count," offered a slightly unfamiliar voice.  
Mamoru leaned back and craned his head towards the brown haired human  
metamorphosed from silver tail dragon.  
  
"The real powerhouse joins us," he grinned, shifting himself over as  
Carl pulled up another seat, which he perched in reversed.  
  
"I see only one of you I do not recognize. You would be?"  
  
"Natole Shard."  
  
"Husband to Ami Mizuno Shard. I see. I am Carl Silver. It is good to  
make your aquiantence."  
  
Natole's thick forehead creased briefly in thought.  
  
"Aye. I know you also."  
  
Carl handed him a curious glance.  
  
"You are Silver Tail, no? Perhaps also Dr. Carl Silver?"  
  
Carl smiled simply.  
  
"I am. Your wit does you more credit than do all social accounts."  
  
"Thank you, Silver One."  
  
Carl nodded curtly.  
  
"So where are we?"  
  
Mamoru blinked himself from distant thoughts.  
  
"Discussing how best to protect the women we love behind their backs.  
Any suggestions?"  
  
"Bondage," Hanlan grinned.  
  
"Besides that," he sighed. "There's got to be..."  
  
"Reason will serve us not," Natole urged. "They are not flexible."  
  
"Not that is makes any bloody sense," Carl interjected. "I really  
don't know what Ami's thinking."  
  
"They died once y'know. Did Mina tell ya that?"  
  
"No, she hasn't. She's been very quiet about her past with me."  
  
Hanlan shrugged.  
  
"I jus' really think she jus' don't wanna have us get snuffed too.  
Scares the living crap outta me thinkin' they could get nailed. I  
flippin' can't blame 'er for worryin'!"  
  
"All the more reason to work together," he affirmed.  
  
"Ah, but I know they be not all inflexible to our well intentioned  
concerns," Adolphus deterred. "None of ye know, but my raven was  
pregnant before Usagi sought to approach Uraki-Ayo. T'was our concern  
she would yet suffer the death of our unborn child. Yet, God acts in  
ways beyond our conception. Rei gained powers to cancel magic, and  
repel all damage. It was all I could do to reach her mind by intent of  
heart and the greatest spell of my knowledge and power."  
  
Pausing at the unbelief and gaping jaws at his revelation, Adolphus  
took a moment to consider his next words. The urgent silence rampaged  
hungrily for several moments more.  
  
"A gift of broach links me to her by means of spell," he concluded.  
"No other spell I have woven matches it. None may ever. So, my  
friends, by adversity's dire touch, we stand on stone, not clay."  
  
"So basically you can ask her to teleport us to them," Mamoru chimed.  
  
"Mayhap. Though she shined a wit of doubt upon that reasoning,"  
Adolphus replied. "She promised that only I could be summoned, as her  
significant other. So difficult is it that only the binding of thy  
hearts allows it."  
  
"I think you've hit something," Carl pointed out. "Most of us here are  
telepathically linked pretty tightly to our wives. If we can use that,  
perhaps by enhancing that link with a spell. Adolphus, you and I are  
the only mages here. We'll have to..."  
  
"Silver One," Natole spoke, his bassoon tones rumbling through each  
man. "I know your skill, yet you know not mine. I am far from a  
master, but my skill is enough..." he raised his thick hand, in which  
a small plume of flame appeared. It danced there for several moments,  
while the remaining four gazed on entranced, as if never having seen  
such a thing before. With a bow of head, the flame died, washing out  
as if attacked by a solitary - and very accurate - burst of wind.  
"Aye?"  
  
"Hai," Carl's face selected a - "damn, I goofed" smile - and wore it.  
"Allow me to apologize, my gifted friend. Any efforts you can put  
forward will be greatly appreciated. So, just who of us is linked to  
their girl telepathically?"  
  
"Holy hell," Hanlan laughed. "Me. Can't admire another girl without  
her knowin'. Not that I've done it really since marryin' Mako. Never  
thought I'd hear m'self say that one."  
  
Adolphus, Carl, Mamoru, and Natole all nodded.  
  
"Used t'be I had a different girl every month. Clients, y'know. Now...  
man, she's all I need. All I frickin' want. It's weird, but man, I  
think I'm winnin' pretty frickin' big..." he grinned, his muscular  
frame warming with reflection upon the unending passion of her  
all-consuming love, the physical and the emotional.  
  
"I didn't used to be psychic, but ever since becoming an Earth  
Child... I just, um, have been," Mamoru shrugged. "All I get right now  
is a black wall, and it's really unsettling. I'm so used to just  
feeling her psychic presence I nearly forgot about it. Until now."  
  
The other men nodded soberly.  
  
"Mind powers are not part of me," Natole literally elaborated. "But  
since my dawn's transformation into an angel, her thoughts are an open  
book to me. So is her heart. My soul aches without her."  
  
"But you can't talk to her with your mind?" Carl asked, sipping an  
oddly discoloured drink.  
  
Natole shook his block-like head.  
  
"Well, you know me, and what I am. So for us it's a two way psionic  
street," Carl began. "But you know what I don't get? I was never  
interested in human women. Not for more than the occasional fling,  
right? Now Minako comes along, and somehow she's more attractive to me  
than my own kind? That I just don't understand."  
  
Silence permeated the room, the outright awkwardness restraining all  
comment. Hanlan's grin rampaged unfaded as he failed to register  
Carl's words, his mind still dwelling upon his angelic mate.  
  
"Natole, you won't have any more a problem reaching Ami than any of us  
will. I'll teach you a spell that will compensate for your lack of  
psionic ability."  
  
"Thank you, Silver One."  
  
"Carl. Call me Carl," he sighed. "We're on equal terms here.  
Understand?"  
  
"Aye."  
  
"Okay..." Mamoru started after several moments. "So we're settled  
then?"  
  
"Aye!"  
  
"Hai!"  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
"Aye!"  
  
---  
  
"No Luna. There is an epicenter of energy here. We should be able to  
follow it to Xalia, and to Uraki-Ayo." She turned and gestured for  
them to follow as she proceeded warily forth. The going, uneasy,  
anxietous, fearful, but swift, sure, and well lit.  
  
The great tunnels gave way to a cathedral, which seemed to have no  
ceremony in the transition. The fourteen foot walls contained no more  
than ionic columns, and great venomous statues of what appeared to be  
the five Inner Senshi. It was to their disdain that they had been  
portrayed as villains within the NegaVerse's society. To Ami it came  
as no surprise:  
  
'We have defeated them at every turn. How easy it must be to paint us  
as such witless creatures - more power than brains,' she began. 'Give  
them an image, and they will hate.'  
  
They regarded the statues for a time. It wasn't that the renditions  
were not attractive; it was, rather, that they were much too. They  
were presented as scantily clad, overzealous, and excessively  
passionate - and physically proportioned - creatures who didn't seem  
to care much what it was they were doing, as long as they were doing  
something destructive.  
  
It was enough to turn the stomach, Minako admitted.  
  
'We shouldn't stop,' Usagi stated. There were several nods. For some  
minutes they traveled in uncomfortable silence.  
  
'Usagi,' Artemis quested. 'Should we return - afterwards?'  
  
'No!' she snapped, whirling to face him abruptly. 'No. That won't...  
Just get Xalia back home. Heal her, then help the Neo Senshi. I have a  
feeling they'll need it.'  
  
His replied nod was solemn.  
  
---  
  
'They come,' her voice resounded sharply from the pulsing multi-toned  
walls.  
  
'Hai, my Queen.'  
  
'Is that all? You hold now the power within you to shatter the very  
essence of life. And that is all you offer?'  
  
'I have so little to offer, my Queen. Forcing them to witness the  
death of the girl will only slight emotions.'  
  
'Precisely. It will force them to expend valuable energy. Do it...  
face them, and disperse their "champion"...' she laughed, an echoing,  
throaty thing that chilled the soul to the core.  
  
---  
  
'Wait!' she stopped, spreading her arms. 'I sense something!'  
  
A flickering multifaceted figure washed into their reality. He gazed  
at Usagi ominously.  
  
'I consider it most remarkable that I should face you in this manner.  
While I have watched you, and known your trials, deserved though they  
may be, it is most amazing to me that you have become a threat to my  
success. Your will for survival impresses me. As does hers.' A  
battered, bloodied and nude winged young woman blurred into focus  
before them. 'She represents but a silver of the cost...'  
  
Xalia's eyes snapped open in fatigued horror as a dozen white motes  
fluttered about her body, which slowly drew itself into transparency.  
  
'I'm suh-sorry Usa-sa-gi...' heaved between ragged breaths.  
  
'Senshi!' Usagi charged. 'Unite!'  
  
A vibrant aura of tranquil energy gripped the five angelic warriors,  
while a tendril like mass sought Xalia's jerking form. Uraki-Ayo  
uttered a gasp, tensing as he realized they were interceding!  
  
'Impossible!'  
  
'No. Nothing is. Haven't you learned that by now?' Usagi hissed. Xalia  
fell forward into Rei's open arms as the dark force released her. All  
but the most severe damage had been repaired in a tremulous instant.  
  
'You are out of your league foe,' Makoto declared assuredly.  
  
'We shall see!' he roared quietly as he retreated. 'Come! Waste no  
more! We will end it!'  
  
Usagi squinted, affixing the source in her mind, waving for Luna and  
Artemis to depart.  
  
"We can't leave the Princess now,' Luna pined to Artemis. 'We may  
never see her again!'  
  
Usagi halted and turned, the chord struck within an earnest, fearsome  
thing.  
  
'Luna, it is a matter of duty. Xalia is dying!' she gently, but  
urgently replied.  
  
Luna was respectfully silent. She bowed deeply, then, grasping hands  
with Artemis, who held Xalia, was gone.  
  
---  
  
The darkness failed to bother her. It was their presence.  
Overwhelming, the stench of them, the rigorous earthy odor. The cold,  
wet, and clammy lengths of snake-like flesh prodded her, caressed her  
intimately, roaming across her exposed breasts...  
  
'N-ya! Taruko-kun! Help!!' she wailed in fragrant Japanese to her  
earless tormentors.  
  
"Hold her!" a voice commanded sternly. "I du'na know what she be  
fightin', but she'll make it mighty worse in a blink!"  
  
Artemis took hold of her left wing and arm while Demelza held her  
legs, and Luna seized the remaining limbs. Each struggled against her  
thrashing mutant-augmented strength. The moist muscles drew taut at  
her wrists and ankles, pulling them apart. Fear drove, tears sprang,  
strength peaked...  
  
Artemis, Luna, and Demelza found themselves slumped in painful heaps  
as Xalia's superhuman strength threw them like rag dolls against the  
nearest walls. Demelza groaned, feeling a numbness running through her  
shoulder blades. Her prosthetic lower leg bellowed in rising spikes of  
flaring pain at her. She staggered numbly to her feet, leaning heavily  
upon the table on which the patient tossed.  
  
There was only one answer.  
  
:Xalia!:  
  
The innately skilled training healer fell back in utter horror, then  
stumbled forward and regurgitated in gasping heaves.  
  
"Dem-chan!" Luna cried. "Are you okay?"  
  
"In her m-mind," Demelza stammered in a rasping voice, eyes clenched  
shut, hands jammed against her body in a defensive posture. "In her  
mind..."  
  
"What? What's happening to her?" Artemis quested fearfully.  
  
"Rape."  
  
The two lovers' eyes set upon Xalia's shifting figure, and indeed, she  
twisted to avoid something it was plain she could not, her mouth  
gaping open, knees spread, hands laying as if pinned in place.  
  
"What?" Luna breathed, her chest heaving as she gasped against her own  
tears, knowing she was needed, and struggling to restrain them.  
Artemis held his stony silence, a mix of anger and puzzlement upon his  
hard, angular features. Demelza slowly rose, her face scarlet by her  
fearsome sympathy, her mouth dry and sour.  
  
She glanced at Luna, who shook her head, indicating that she  
understood well enough. Artemis, despite his solid founding, admitted  
a lack thereof with a softening of his rigid features.  
  
Demelza took his hand and placed it upon the girl's sweating forehead.  
  
Reality took a powder.  
  
Xalia, pinned down by innumerable lengths of tubular flesh, shuddered  
and screamed at the incomprehensible sexual assault. The knotting  
about her breasts, the movement between her taut thighs. Artemis  
retreated his hand and staggered back, a cold, dark creature in his  
gut.  
  
"How can we help her?"  
  
"By pullin'er from the mem'ry," Demelza fumed. "I need ya t' help me  
Artemis. Luna, I need you to watch 'er... if ya can't feel 'er pulse,  
then I need ya t' bring us out."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Slap me. Hard. This is more important than a bruise 'er two."  
  
Luna could not mistake the seriousness of the instruction, and so she  
nodded understanding.  
  
"If I don't come to first time, y'must hit me again. Got it? I'm the  
anchor, an' we'll have plenty o' trouble if I don' wake from the  
trance."  
  
"Hai," Luna said resolutely.  
  
Demelza had experience, fortunately. The trick was to make yourself  
immune to the threat. Easy for a well-trained psychic. Flying was a  
new experience, one she could dare become accustomed to. The force  
barriers, on the other hand, took a bit of work, though they proved to  
ward the attacking creature without fail.  
  
At least, until they had to retrieve Xalia's psionic core.  
  
:Xalia!; she tried. The young woman's demeaned groans were shut out by  
the trained healer's psychic reflexes. Being so close, forget hearing  
the event, had Demelza exceedingly nervous as was. Xalia was literally  
overwhelmed. With a stern regard and clenched teeth, Demelza pointed  
at Xalia.  
  
He nodded, retracting his barrier enough to reach for her. He  
undertook the unspoken task of removing the numberless attackers, but  
found they replaced each other. In utter loathing, he recoiled,  
turning up his defenses, and returning to Demelza, who bowed her head  
sorrowfully.  
  
:I'm sorry, Dem-chan; Artemis stated. :I can't remove them without  
seriously hurting her:  
  
:Forget it. You tried. My turn:  
  
Trembling of body, stammering of will, she approached with fear of  
similar experience. Then, all at once, rage collected, she, in one  
motion retracted her barrier and grabbed Xalia's dislocated right arm.  
As she did...  
  
... Luna gasped, catching the limp robed form of the young English  
healer.  
  
"Demelza?"  
  
Demelza blinked, then felt her eyes gradually wandering open.  
  
"Hai. Xalia, is she...?"  
  
"Calm," Artemis reported, rubbing the back of his head as he recovered  
his footing.  
  
"Good. Get my herb satchel, hurry!"  
  
Without undue prompting, Luna was gone. Demelza took hold of Xalia's  
shoulder and relocated it with a deft, dull crack.  
  
"Grab that blanket."  
  
Artemis' hand moved without direction. Demelza began tearing the  
scraps of Xalia's clothes from her badly brutalized body.  
  
"Demelza, may I ask..."  
  
"What?" she replied distractedly.  
  
"Why that? It was so difficult for Luna to heal from the pain of her  
assault. With this... I cannot imagine." He watched the white blanket  
slipped over Xalia's nude form, noting the dislocation of her hips.  
  
"You are a man, you never could."  
  
"I felt her thoughts..." he replied defensively.  
  
"An' that means what? Artemis, there be naught to squall over here. You  
are a good, trustworthy man. Yours is a blessed marriage."  
  
"Thank you, Dem-chan."  
  
"As for the..." she hesitated a half instant. "I said it t'was mem'ry,  
aye? Obviously what he did to her."  
  
"Uraki-Ayo."  
  
"Aye. I've had the misfortune to see this b'fore. Re-triggerin' the  
mem'ry does more damage, if ya gather my meanin'."  
  
Artemis expressed further lack of understanding.  
  
"Artemis, this was real. Only two things keep 'er alive: Her  
Knighthood, and the power of your angel friend Usagi."  
  
"But what about her betrayal?"  
  
"What of it? 'Er heart remained strong and pure. I guess," Demelza  
paused, her expression stern as she prepared a rich, foul smelling  
salve from the materials at hand, "someone up there decided she should  
live."  
  
"So he put her back in the memory in a final effort to crush her  
spirit," Luna noted angrily as she placed the herbs in front of  
Demelza.  
  
She only nodded.  
  
"Now... enough chatter. I want you to fetch Hysian, and Luna, use your  
best psionic healing tricks. She'll never have kids if we don' get  
crackin'..." 


	41. The Calm Before the Swarm

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 40: The Calm Before the Swarm  
  
By many it was called the 'eternal dark.' The sun had not risen in  
days, and the population of Tokyo dwindled. By suicide, by the need of  
the vampiric ten story high crystal, or by the multitude of  
shadowlings which freely roamed the streets, and populated the skies  
like vultures. Buildings within ten blocks of the crystal had taken  
the appearance of being gutted, the residents within resembling  
somewhat the bug-splatters upon a windshield.  
  
Hundreds by the day.  
  
Even the Senshi Resistence struggled, being overwhelmed by the  
combination of number and mystic ability rivaling even the most  
powerful practitioner on their side. Much to Osaka's disheartening,  
the ratio of death from shadowling to human had altered again, with  
unfavorable results. Now at only 2/1, a fierce attitude of desperation  
was surrounding the courageous civilians, fighting for their very  
freedom. Closing in was a near equal level of death between each race,  
and the knowledge that the shadowlings seemed numberless not promoting  
morale by any degree.  
  
Yet, shortly after the latest siege, Nasura turned over another leaf,  
pleading to the unaffected populous, and bidding them join. A call to  
which many responded, offering up another chance to the subjected  
occupants of the ruining Toyko. Unabated, the shadowlings would soon  
have taken the whole of Japan, and moved on to the rest of the  
unprepared world.  
  
For so closed off from that world was Japan that no one else seemed to  
be aware of their dire situation. It was conjectured by the Resistance  
that this was in part the design of Uraki-Ayo. Outside assistance  
would surely have ended the war some weeks ago.  
  
Naritha Walynn, the psychic soul of the Neo Senshi, who, in turn, who  
represented the central force of defense of the besieged Earth, stood  
on the edge. Emotionally, for being so physically shattered put her  
very life into question, even without the support of her newly found  
companion, Haisha, the unabashed verbal core of the recently  
instituted team.  
  
Her powerful psionic ability lent her a touch of this conflict where  
her bright, yet violence tarnished eyes failed to percieve the  
horrible conflict. She had seen so much of it, and was in the midst of  
a desire to flee the sight of further destruction, even while knowing  
that such an action would surely lead to yet more of it. Despite these  
conflicts, she knew it was not in her to succumb to weakness, when  
others had sacrificed themselves to allow her the chance to do what  
must be done!  
  
Not so much to assist her observation of the destruction as to attempt  
to percieve the source of her sensing, she stood on a physical edge,  
or ledge, more accurately. The explosion not even a day passed had  
destroyed the wooden fencing of the balcony. And yet, so much had  
occurred then, and since. The near complete obliteration of three of  
the Neo Senshi; Sailor Sol, Phoenix, and herself, Seraph. That failed  
to account for Xalia, who despite being recently rescued, still hung  
upon a fraying thread. Apparently she had been submitted to lengthy  
torture, and had been inhumanly raped.  
  
Hours of prayer had brought little comfort. Somehow, her mind was  
privy to Xalia's emotional turmoil. Naritha no more knew the certainty  
of her own life over the outcome of the ensuing war, nor, come to  
think of it, the strange senshi who had simultaneously murdered their  
friends, and saved their very lives. She only knew her part in it. She  
turned away from the darkness of the light nulling Vortex Crystal  
miles distant, which seemed to leer at their inexperience, and  
weakness.  
  
'Yanei!' she gasped faintly, feeling the aura of the woman, hearing  
the smooth sliding of the patio door, and turning to face it. The  
bird-like woman gazed at her vacantly, clothed in a slightly ajar  
kimono of a strong yellow-orange. Her presence was overtly sexual, and  
though the silver-blue haired girl had not the strength, she wished  
herself flown away from it.  
  
'You know he killed Akari,' she stated blandly, as if having no regard  
for her own loss. 'And I, we had something.'  
  
Her sultry, wanton, child-like gaze made an uneasy dark matter form in  
the young virgin's stomach.  
  
'Yanei, I see no need you share...'  
  
'We had passionate sex,' she uttered lustily. 'And you, the sweet  
virgin... hai, very much a virgin. Beauty like yours attracts women as  
much as men you know. But then, you did know that, didn't you? Being  
psychic would tell you such things.'  
  
Naritha retreated a step, immediately repulsed. This was wrong, she  
had not detected such feelings from this traitorous creature. She had  
been extremely thorough.  
  
'Iye, Yanei. Stop.'  
  
'Denying yourself for the would-be husband?' she declared teasingly.  
'A cubicle bound hermit with more time for hentai young sluts than  
you?'  
  
A flare of anger surged.  
  
'Iye!' she snapped, transparent smoke playing from her defensively  
postured arms as she fell instinctively into a trained stance of  
defense.  
  
'I will have you, as I did Xalia,' she declared, advancing quickly.  
With an unpleasant snarl, the shaking, silver haired girl struck with  
a fore knuckle fist, which was easily parried. She uttered a  
high-pitched grunt as she was slammed against the wall with a thick,  
loud rattle of the separated wood. Pinned as she was, it was simple  
for Yanei to grab her chin and place an unwelcome kiss upon her lips.  
  
Abruptly, Yanei lurched back with an ear-piercing squeal, eyes wide  
with pain.  
  
'Which part didn't you get, the "N" or the "O"?' a throaty female  
voice confidently snapped. A deft motion rendered the woman  
unconscious. The slender girl slumped into a heap, sobbing in great  
heaves. Nasura, clothed in a tan nightgown, rushed through the patio  
door and took the tearful girl into her arms. Upon dropping the orange  
locked flaccid woman, she paled, taking on the appearance of someone  
who has seen no less than the holiest of holies.  
  
'Naritha-sama!!' she cried, shocked, and nearly stammering her  
continuing words. 'What are you doing here? I thought...'  
  
Nasura shot her a suspicious, and menacing glance. Instantly she  
clasped her hands to her mouth.  
  
:This is...; she knelt beside Nasura, gazing mutely at the weeping  
young woman. :Her younger self?:  
  
'Zia, don't... whatever in blue blazes it is,' she uttered tensely  
under her breath. 'Just keep it to yourself! Got it?!'  
  
She nodded simply, bowing her head to hide a frown and unwarrior-like  
wave of sorrow. A moment later, she stood, eyeing Naritha's attacker  
warily.  
  
'Zia, what happened?' Narusa asked urgently.  
  
'That girl,' she indicated Yanei's lax form. 'Tried to rape Naritha.'  
  
'Curses! I wasn't sure if I could trust her,' she cursed, absently  
stroking Naritha's silk soft, while unattended, hair.  
  
'No,' Naritha gasped, taking Nasura's hand and squeezing it, 'not  
Yanei fault!'  
  
Nasura uttered a surprised gasp. She knelt back, regarding the  
red-faced girl at no more than arms length, closing her hand around  
the younger girl's with a desperate sense of confusion. Zia opened her  
mouth to speak, but Nasura raised a hand. Her mouth fell shut.  
  
'If anyone would know, it would be you. Tell me.'  
  
'Kei-san, Uraki-Ayo, he take Yanei mind, and use it to strike my  
weakness. He suppose strike darkest fear, and most bold truth.'  
Naritha's bowed her shamed face. 'Yanei not want more than dead mate.  
I not want more than distant love! To hide that wrong! But know must  
fight! No time to for self! Must be only strong senshi! Must want...  
Seek... gnuuh!' she fell angrily into Chinese, cursing her inability  
to express herself in Japanese, cursing the language, until Nasura  
gripped her shoulders. Naritha's emotion squinted eyes latched onto  
her mentor's.  
  
'What is it Naritha? Why did he go after you?'  
  
'I know why.'  
  
The voice sparked anger within all but the spiky, and leggy red haired  
woman who had halted her. As she reached down to restrain her, Nasura  
shook her head. She glanced tentatively at the three from her  
cross-legged position.  
  
'She would have teleported away if she didn't want to be here,' Nasura  
observed. Zia blinked.  
  
'Huh... gotcha.'  
  
'So Yanei,' Naritha began in only slightly less than trembling tones.  
'Tell why.'  
  
'You have the most potential. Out of all your teammates, you have the  
greatest power, or least, you could.'  
  
Naritha blinked slowly, not understanding in the shallowest sense.  
  
'You're like her!' she continued, pointing at Zia. 'Your power won't  
stop -'  
  
'That's enough, Yanei,' Nasura interrupted, deathly serious. 'Haven't  
you done enough already?'  
  
'I never wanted you,' she continued tartly, either ignoring or not  
hearing Nasura's protesting command. 'Not that you aren't cute. You  
are. Enviously gorgeous, actually. It's just... I'm not that way.'  
  
Naritha could say nothing. Yanei frowned sincerely as she rose,  
allowing herself to favor the points of deserved pain.  
  
'I'm sorry Naritha. I really am,' she began uselessly, her hand  
holding her in place at the patio door before her final statement  
brought her departure. 'I let my defenses down. I hope you find it in  
you to forgive me.'  
  
Naritha's pleading, frightened gaze struck Nasura deeply.  
  
'What mean, "power won't stop"?'  
  
'There's a little something your mother hasn't told you about your  
father...'  
  
---  
  
'Oh Thanus... ugh! D-damn you Uraki!'  
  
'How are you feeling?' Ayla asked tentatively, regarding the savaged  
young woman with mixed concern and anger.  
  
'Why d-did she choose me? I c-couldn't handle him, n-nuh-nuh-no way!'  
Her voice shook as she had, even though her body had eased the  
distressed expressive reaction. She glanced nervously about, reacting  
to the slightest shadow, while she sat legs stretched out underneath  
several cotton layers of blanket while her stitched and sewn torso  
rested upon three thick down pillows. Her movements were stiff and  
restrained, as most of the damage was internal, and anything so simple  
as a cough brought mind-nulling agony.  
  
'I d-don't... I r-re-remember their deaths, even though I wasn't in  
c-cuh-control.' She gazed thoughtfully through the window to her left,  
as she had wept, and could not move to wipe the dried tears, and those  
that visited her again. She bowed her head. 'Oh Asa I'm so  
s-s-suh-orry...'  
  
Ayla shook her head. It was hard to hate her. When it came down to it,  
Xalia had had no choice, but had done her best to ensure their  
success. On the other hand, it was by her will, and hand, that over a  
dozen skilled warriors were executed for choosing to fight for hope.  
That, in itself, was difficult to wrest with. She felt nervous around  
her, as if despite her firm medical bindings she might rise up and  
plunge a mystically summoned blade into her chest.  
  
It was confusing in the extreme.  
  
'Xalia-chan,' she began, placing particular stress on the adjoining  
word "chan." 'I know you weren't. We all saw your message. You did  
what you could. You did more than anyone could have asked.'  
  
:Oh, fantastic choice of words Miss Debate Winner; she chided herself.  
  
'In preserving us, I mean,' she added hastily. 'You've been through a  
lot.'  
  
The girl glared at her, her largely feather-stripped wings twitching  
with myriad emotions. It wasn't anger so much as frustration, and it  
certainly was not directed at Ayla. Her new leader's only concern was  
fear for her safety. Something not entirely unappreciated by the  
young, trialed woman. Ayla, on the other hand, held a seriously large  
shard of doubt questioning her certainty of the truth, despite the  
evidence present.  
  
'What am I s-suh-upposed to say? I've done what I c-c-can, and I'm not  
g-guh-going be able to regain my honour b-by fighting. I mean, how  
d-d-duh-did you do it? You were almost dead t-tuh-two days ag-g-go,'  
she retorted, wincing as she tensed instinctively. 'Why's it any  
d-different for me?'  
  
'Usagi has a lot to do with it,' the crimson haired girl replied  
sympathetically. 'And being Sailor Sol has much more.'  
  
'M-more what?'  
  
Ayla blinked, caught off-guard.  
  
'To do... to...' she swallowed. "It was the extra healing of being  
Sailor Sol that allowed me to recover so quickly, aided by Yanei's  
magic."  
  
'Yanei!' she started, paling when it seemed impossible she could  
appear any more wan. A shard of doubt leapt into Ayla's heart. Had she  
made a mistake trusting the traitor?  
  
'She saved my life,' Ayla offered bleatingly.  
  
'She d-did?'  
  
Ayla sighed relief, but then caught it.  
  
'She didn't do anything to...'  
  
Xalia shook her head minimally.  
  
'No. She d-deserted before I t-tuh-turned on Uraki. It was only th-the  
four, and...' she fell silent, gaze averted.  
  
'I understand,' she breathed, wringing her hands in her lap. 'When did  
Nasura give you the crystal?'  
  
'Ages ago. I d-don't have it n-nuh-now, or I wouldn't be in such rough  
sh-shuh-shape,' she coughed.  
  
'I'm not familiar with magic in the manner you are. Was it different?'  
  
'Was wh-what different?' she began, dumbfounded, before clicking in an  
instant later, slipping to a reverie apart from the emotional turmoil  
which stuttered her tongue. 'Oh, well y-yeah. I don't have the  
strength for it now, b-but Nasura just basically had me reciting  
spells as at-t-tacks. Only, she had them on constant w-weave, so all I  
had to do was invoke them. I can d-d-do it without the crystal, but it  
t-takes longer.'  
  
Ayla was desperately seeking a topic with which to stay her impending  
nervousness. Gratefully, she stumbled upon another:  
  
'Why did she Knight you? Wasn't Mamoru strong enough?' The answer to  
this she knew, but was interested in both hearing Xalia's perspective  
as well as keeping the verbal ball rolling.  
  
'He w-was. I've talked to him.' She acquired a dreamy look, which  
faded as Ayla whistled, drawing her attention. 'Anyway, I guess it was  
'c-cause he never really fought on the forefr-fr-front. He used to  
just come to Usagi's rescue a lot. Not that he didn't do okay against  
Z-zuh-zuh-zoisite. Anyway, Akari and Yanei tricked Mamoru into coming  
out of hiding. They summoned a bunch of demons to get his attention,  
and because they went overb-buh-board, Nasura set me up with my  
crystal to help out where Tuxedo Mask couldn't be to f-f-fuhight them.  
I was d-d-doing fine t-too. Problem is...' her voice lapsed as her  
face tensed in what looked to be painful concentration. A green  
shimmering brought several shards of jade into existence, to rest on  
the bed at Xalia's feet. 'Uraki made pretty sh-shuh-shuh-short work of  
me, and kinda truh-tricked me into joining his s-suh-side. Then I  
m-m--muh-managed to get out th-thuh... the message. After Uraki  
d-duh-dropped the mind-sp-spell he had on me, when the monster  
r-r-ruh-ruh-ruh... um,' she hesitated a half instant, almost in sync  
with the tightening of Ayla's throat, '...it shattered my  
transformation crystal. I c-can't turn into Sailor Eth-th-th-thuh...  
Ether.'  
  
Ayla remained visibly impressed at the young woman's strength. Though  
she could not move, she kept her anxiousness to return to the  
battlefield and... she blinked, exact revenge? Perhaps that was her  
motivator, and perhaps the only one. At that point, however, she could  
see no problem with it, as she saw the matter through similar eyes.  
Though obviously, less intimately. Somehow, Ayla felt that Xalia's  
stutter was a deadly indicator of the psychological damage that had  
distinctively been done along with the physical. Nasura had indicated  
Xalia to be a motormouth, rather than of the mealy sort. It spoke to  
her of the truth of the event. Silence traversed for several  
languishing moments amongst them, before Xalia's will seemed to  
reasserted strongly enough to emote thusly:  
  
'I just w-wuh-want to get back out there and k-k-kuh-kick their  
asses!'  
  
Yet as she did, the wash of tears across her cheeks and her shaking  
voice indicated the true nature of her words: Wards against  
Uraki-Ayo's unrelenting battering at the walls of her sanity.  
  
Ayla could only gaze crestfallen at the young woman who hung so  
visibly on a silver thread of survival.  
  
'Xalia?'  
  
Both young women glanced up at their weary looking mentor. Even beyond  
the brief gasp of agony, Xalia wondered along with her friend what had  
kept the enigmatic woman up so as to give her the appearance of  
facing... no well, the fact was that they faced the end of the world,  
if they lost, Ayla realized wearily.  
  
'Xalia, I must speak with your leader,' she began, nearing the bed,  
palming the crystal shards, then placing an undamaged counterpart in  
her left hand. 'Until then, use this. It will increase your healing  
further. Its power is more than twice that of your former crystal.'  
  
As Xalia winced at her own exclamation of outright amazement, Nasura  
swiftly guided the mystified crimson haired young woman outside of the  
room, the door to which she closed.  
  
'You just gave her another crystal? Like that? No questions?' Ayla  
demanded, surprised by her mentor's action.  
  
'You just spent the last few hours with her. What do you think? Do you  
think she's going to betray us again? Do you think she has the  
strength?'  
  
Ayla's face darkened.  
  
'No, she can barely talk straight, much less fight. Which is what she  
wants to do,' she remarked incredulously. 'This just blows me away.  
She's so weak! I've had seven month old cousins stronger than she is  
now. If I was her, I'd just want to roll into a ball and forget  
everything! As for trust? She makes me nervous, but I think I can  
trust her as long as she's not mobile.'  
  
Nasura nodded. It would take time. Naught could be done to alter that.  
  
'Xalia has a good heart. Naritha agrees with that. You believe her,  
hai?'  
  
'Of course, but there's an American saying: "The road to hell is paved  
with good intentions." She's right in one thing; she has to earn our  
trust, and find a way to banish the dishonour she has foisted upon  
herself. It will be a good healthy while before I ask her to do  
anything.'  
  
'She actually said that? I'm impressed. It's good to know you're  
considering her a potential member of the Neo Senshi.'  
  
'"Considering" and "potential" are a good ways off, Nasura-san,' Ayla  
retorted calmly, crossing her arms firmly across her armored chest. As  
soon as she had been able to muster the strength, she had become  
Sailor Sol again, sheltering herself in the strength the  
transformation provided.  
  
'I get the point. I suggest you keep talking to her. You'll gain a  
better understanding of how her mind works. Hai?'  
  
Ayla nodded dismally. There was a distended moment, after which Nasura  
spoke, her voice deepened by a ladening inner tension.  
  
'I must entrust you with something. It is important that you ask no  
questions. You must trust me. Absolutely.'  
  
Nasura's words, while calm, sparked a deeply rooted edge of darkness  
within Ayla's being.  
  
'When haven't I?'  
  
'We have so little time,' she continued, clearly not observing Ayla's  
words, 'and I cannot explain. Take this. You will know what to do,  
when the time comes.'  
  
Simply, and without expression, she handed the perplexed girl a sealed  
envelope. She bowed at the waist deeply, giving a great show of  
respect for her trust before returning to Xalia. Ayla remained stunned  
for a sundry shifting of time.  
  
'Sensei, what are we up against...?' she muttered, wrapping her arms  
defensively about her torso, bowing her head, then turned to walk  
away.  
  
---  
  
What was worse? The death of her soulmate, no nor death. Murder. Yet  
anger came so slowly beyond the ingrained servitude, the training of  
Uraki-Ayo, her long term sensei and even father figure.  
  
Yet there was another, more intimate, and foreboding matter to  
confront.  
  
As if she had a choice.  
  
'What do you want?' she whispered fiercely, high tones cracking under  
the stress of fear, pain, and anger, kneeling upon her bed, a rather  
ordinarily clothed woman behind her, stroking her unclad shoulders  
slowly. Against her will, she had been mystically recalled to her own  
home, to the presense of her captor in emotional bondage.  
  
'You cannot know the last time I was with a woman of your beauty,' she  
uttered, her voice dark, sultry, and lustful as she placed the lips  
which issued those souring words upon her neck in light, subtle  
kisses.  
  
'Your mate's threats mean nothing to me now, for indeed, he is only  
mortal.'  
  
Easily, Yanei broke her hard grasp, and took to the floor in several  
hurried steps.  
  
'Do not think me kind, nor affectionate, nor equal to you. There is  
nothing you have done of my whim. I do not desire your sex, fledging.  
I seek your retaliation, for it feeds me most potently.'  
  
Confused, Yanei whirled about and gazed upon the creature, knowing  
very well she had been sustaining her, and hating her for every  
minute. It was not that her anger was slow. Rather, there was hatred  
in its place.  
  
'You let me feed upon you. You realize that, don't you?'  
  
'Iye...' she started, her tiny hands pulling up the shoulders of her  
nightgown self consciously.  
  
'Go ahead,' she sneered, strutting about so that eventually she was  
behind her again. 'Lie to yourself. It is from you I have learned the  
most about human fallacy. How much more would you do? You only saved  
those girls to abate your own self-loathing. It is also why you let me  
have you, isn't it? You hate yourself more than you do me. Isn't that  
right? Humans are such silly things. You even lied to Naritha to  
preserve what little self-respect you have.  
  
'And you will not ask, but because it interests me, I will tell you,'  
she grinned, running her hands along the curve of Yanei's hips. 'I  
assist Shyanne because she is one of my own. Her mother, because even  
though she is not wholly natural, she is beautiful. She has no  
aversion to liaisons with her own sex, I sensed, and though nothing  
came of it... it was enough.'  
  
'Stop...!' she muttered, turning about with a flare and shoving her  
back.  
  
'Do it. Good!'  
  
'Nani?' suddenly small and lost.  
  
'Stop me,' she sneered. 'You don't have the will, fledging. You want  
this.'  
  
:Do I?; she asked herself. :Why am I punishing myself?:  
  
(she can't be right)  
  
:Yes; Tamara interjected. :This is. You are.:  
  
:Get out of my head!:  
  
Lady Tamara flinched back, startled by the abrupt psychic wall erected  
before her.  
  
:It was not my fault! I never put Xalia in danger!:  
  
(Mama-san! Please...! no)  
  
:Then why have I let her command me?:  
  
(Akari loved me)  
  
:No! That wasn't my fault either! Uraki betrayed me!:  
  
(he saved me - s/he loved me -right?)  
  
:Because I served his purpose! Only Akari was truly unselfish.:  
  
(Akari wouldn't like us like this - he would not be afraid to hate  
Mama/Tamara)  
  
"Go away," piped Yanei's miniscule voice, courage enhancing its  
intensity.  
  
(forgive me Mama)  
  
"What was that?" she blinked in astonishment at the power in her  
tones.  
  
(but I hate you)  
  
"Oh, I think you heard me," she snarled, a white energy coalescing  
about her slender figure as she shoved at her again with greater  
force. A feral growled parked itself upon her face, her body shifting  
and altering with a strange metamorphosis.  
  
"Go ahead, change if you think it'll do you any good."  
  
(I love you, Mama... but)  
  
Her red, pupil-less eyes widened at the insubordination.  
  
"You dare...!"  
  
"Uh-huh. You were right," she declared soberly. "I did let you control  
me... and make me weak..." her golden eyes fell, then rose again. "But  
I'm done being silly. Oh, and what you said about me being human?  
That's only half-true. So, you can just go away now."  
  
(you let Papa hurt me)  
  
Lady Tamara, looking more the part of a thick skinned, excessively  
muscled demon, let a brief cry of frustration and rage pour forth to  
mingle with the darkness about her.  
  
"Oh get over it," Yanei snorted derisively. "You're just pissed 'cause  
you know you couldn't ever win against me. It just doesn't happen,  
especially now that I am pushing back."  
  
With all of an insulted gaping mask, her body ceased its modifying  
tremor, and with a frown, reverted to her human form while hands took  
to hips.  
  
(you didn't Stop him)  
  
"Fine," she huffed.  
  
"Oh," she noted as an after thought. "If you ever bother any my new  
friends... you know I'll know... I'll send you to your native abyss so  
fast you'll think you were in a time warp!"  
  
(he was the Human - you had the Power)  
  
"Ooooh!" she steamed, eyes literally burning as she shot figurative  
daggers with them.  
  
"Now you can go away," she pronounced disinterestedly, arms clasped on  
each opposing elbow defiantly. "I'm done."  
  
(bye Mama)  
  
She wisped away in sour flash of heat and light after which Yanei  
stepped over to her bed, upon which she flopped, and began weeping  
wholeheartedly. 


	42. Briefly, Ayla's Filaments of Discord

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 41: Briefly, Ayla's Filaments of Discord  
  
They had been beaten back for a time. Nasura's plea to the civilian  
public had routed the most recent wave of shadowlings, to the point  
that only four or five dozen or so remained, scouting and patrolling,  
apparently for the next attack. The period for action was rising  
quickly, and though Ayla desired to assist the growing Sailor  
Resistence, Nasura insisted they conserve their strength. Destroying  
the vortex crystal was to be no easy task. What of the military? The  
shadowlings had nearly evened the battlefield with the introduction of  
simplistic magic. Despite this, the ratio neared 4/1 at the peak of  
the battle, four shadowlings banished for every single human killed.  
At its end, not a shadowling struck back.  
  
Some hours later after her conversation with Xalia, outside of the  
Shirinaui home, she strode along a moon drenched porch which extended  
around the circumference of the building. It was dark, cool, but not  
unpleasant, nor unwelcome. For the moment, this was as she desired it,  
peaceful, despite her vague sense of the emotional and physical agony  
by which they were surrounded. Gazing into the light dotted sky,  
heaven reaching to earth, or perhaps the opposite, she took a seat  
upon a wooden bench and mused silently, letting feelings stir her  
thoughts. Internally, she had become a stewing pot of conflict. And  
Why Not? There was plenty for the first course, and seconds, if  
desired.  
  
And she did not desire.  
  
There was the first, and the most distressing: Xalia. Strangely, while  
the conundrum of the young woman pressed so powerfully, it was not an  
immediate matter. In fact, there was not time enough to sort her out.  
Moreover, she wondered why she had the time for her current respite.  
With a sigh, she accepted it, taking what she could in such misshapen  
times. So what was next? Nasura, obviously. Why had she approached  
her? What was in the envelope?  
  
She regarded it, her free hand hovering above the wax seal. There was  
no spell upon it. Ayla cursed softly. It was a matter of trust!  
Shaking her head, she slipped the white casing into a hammerspace  
pocket. Time would tell, and damn him! That brought her to the third  
problem. Time. Too soon they would face the shadowlings again, and  
then the vortex crystal, which they somehow had to destroy. Alone, she  
doubted very much they would ever live to see it so closely again,  
much less shatter it. What had happened to the promised soldiers?  
Maybe that was the matter which was sealed so tightly, resting in her  
pocket. No. That made no sense. There was too much at stake for Nasura  
to offer something she could not fulfill. She was not dry of such wit.  
She would come through. She always did.  
  
Okay, those questions maybe not answered, but nulled for now, what  
else is there? Doubt. Usagi had exhibited such faith in Ayla's  
abilities as a leader, even saying so. With her gone, she came back to  
having a serious lack of confidence in herself. She had lost already  
against a powerful opponent, one much less than those they dared face.  
Where she had unfaltering faith in the Inner Senshi, she was in want  
for faith in herself.  
  
"You know, even Usagi had trouble facing Beryl."  
  
Ayla glanced up, seeing someone with whom she was not familiar. The  
figure moved with an easy grace and smoothness of motion, and by the  
silhouette, was unmistakably female.  
  
"Who are you?" Ayla hissed faintly, clenching her fist as a spike of  
light formed within her palm. Wisely, the woman did not approach,  
placing each white gloved hand on the opposing elbow under her large  
breasts.  
  
'I won't hurt you, Ayla sensei,' she replied in flawless Japanese.  
  
Despite this, the young woman's eyes narrowed.  
  
'How am I supposed to trust anyone?' she asked, of herself more than  
the stranger who faced her. 'You could be another minion. Like  
Jisuruka, or Yanei. Or even Xalia!'  
  
'Hai. You're right,' she agreed, appreciative of the young leader's  
observation. 'It's been so long... how would you know me?'  
  
Ayla's mouth widened, and anger abated as the woman's face was  
revealed by the sullen moonlight. She was a stark redhead, which  
collected in five large spikes atop her head, and expansively built in  
figure. Her countenance was one of deceptive kindness, which, while  
sincere, disguised her sinister talents. Her blues eyes indicated a  
wealth of stifled guilt, the leash of which she finally began to  
release. About her slender neck was a silver pendant, upon which in  
relief was a sparrow in flight, its eyes narrowed, as if pinpointing a  
particular target.  
  
'Zia?' Ayla gaped, standing and hesitantly approaching her. 'We  
thought you'd...'  
  
'Died? I know,' she nodded. 'Uh, the blast just kinda locked us in the  
library. I won shortly after that. It gets kinda hard to explain...'  
  
'Why!? I've got time, or don't you think your niece will understand?'  
she snapped in harsh reply, her hands winding into fists.  
  
Awkwardly, Ayla stood in place, angrily refusing the desire to hug her  
lost relative. Zia held her eyes to Ayla's speaking clearly and  
precisely.  
  
'Ayla, the Clan... they needed me. It was a matter of honour and... I  
had no choice.'  
  
Ayla's eyes trembled as her mind whirled in thought and emotion,  
tossed like a bird in a tornado. A gentle breeze swept into the porch,  
wisping their hair, and nudging open Zia's long yellow coat far enough  
to reveal the hilt of a traditional samurai blade. Instantly, Ayla  
recognized the symbols.  
  
'Nani...?' she bit into her words, as if she was striking her verbal  
target. Moments later, she reached a dark conclusion that staggered  
her back into her seat. 'SilverKnife... you did die. Don't lie to me!'  
  
'That wasn't 'til later! Hear me out!'  
  
'It explains your figure, though,' she observed with a faint grin.  
  
She offered a tight, uneasy smile.  
  
'Huh, well, not like I had a choice...'  
  
Ayla wasn't sure quite what to say.  
  
'You work with what you've got,' Zia shrugged her slender shoulders.  
'Magic gave me my face back, and enabled me to be here, now, to help  
you.'  
  
Ayla's eyebrows knitted.  
  
'You want to know something, Zia-san?' she snorted, snarling the  
adjoining "san" derisively. 'Family is a matter of honour too! It's  
not like we need your help now... We needed you three years ago...  
when Jusoi died!'  
  
Zia's white-gloved hand fled to her mouth, tears springing instantly  
to her eyes.  
  
'Nani? Iye!' she whispered, her voice tender and defenseless. 'What  
happened?'  
  
Ayla turned away, head bowed.  
  
'She caught phenomena,' she replied in hushed, emotion fraught tones.  
'Barely walking and she... ooh!' she whispered heatedly, pained. 'You  
had the power Zia! You could have saved her! Mama doesn't have the  
Gift.'  
  
Zia gazed at Ayla meaningfully, eyes glistening with abundant tears.  
  
'I'm sorry Ayla-chan. What can I... I knew something would happen, but  
I...'  
  
'You knew?!?' she cried, glaring at Zia with literal fire in her wide  
eyes.  
  
'Iye! I didn't know Jusoi would get sick!' she half-yelled, emotions  
high, the foremost being a primal hurt. 'I knew you would be called to  
war, and wouldn't have the strength, or the will to pull through... I  
had a choice. Shimatta Ayla! Gomen-nasai!'  
  
The young woman folded her arms over her chest and was silent.  
  
:No differently:  
  
'I had a choice, a sacrifice to make ...' Zia was cut off by a harsh  
expression which said: "Don't Pull Little Miss Melodrama With Me."  
With a fire in her soul, and a deeply rooted passion in her heart, Zia  
found the words which with to stride forward. 'I did it because I love  
my little sister, and her beautiful, gifted daughter. I did it because  
I knew this was coming, and I wanted to be ready to help you when you  
would really need me. That's all there is to it.'  
  
Whether or not Ayla believed it, the fact was, she was there when they  
most needed her. It was minutes, nearly five, as Ayla bashed the fifth  
new problem about in her skull, finally slaying the robust creature.  
She opened her arms and stepped forward, grasping Zia in a reluctant  
but heartfelt hug. Tears shimmered on her cheeks as she felt the  
glowing love of an intimate guardian, someone very akin to her mother.  
  
'I forgive you, Zia-san,' she wept, holding her for some time more,  
even more grateful for the support of someone she had long missed. 'I  
love you.'  
  
'I'm so sorry about Jusoi... was it bad?'  
  
'It took weeks... and she missed you so much. After you died - hm -  
went missing, she kept asking for you. I guess...' Ayla blinked,  
wiping away tears with clenched hands. 'She must have known.'  
  
'Oh Ayla...' Zia was silent with the effort of sobbing, the girl  
having been very close to her heart. After the emotional encounter,  
Zia pulled away, and spoke solemnly. 'I brought something that will  
help, as well.... besides me, I mean.'  
  
Ayla accepted the small, yellow seed, which had mystic symbols cut  
into it.  
  
'Don't eat it yet. It's risky,' she warned. 'It's a last resort sort  
of thing.'  
  
She scrutinized the strange looking little seed.  
  
'Eat it? What is it?'  
  
'A Yarrow Wine seed, enhanced by magic.'  
  
'No, I mean the price.'  
  
'It's different for everyone,' she said, blue eyes averted slightly.  
  
'What about my Neo Senshi?'  
  
'I brought enough for them too.'  
  
'Good.'  
  
:Ayla-chan, you are needed. Bring Zia with you:  
  
Ayla blinked, stunned, as Zia looked upon her apparent confusion with  
concern. Ayla shook her head.  
  
'We're needed, apparently. C'mon.'  
  
With a shrug, she followed. 


	43. Through Many Persuasions Seen the Same S...

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 42: Through Many Persuasions Seen the Same Storm  
  
She stood fully armed, by sword, dagger, and martial skill, well  
endowed, in figure, musculature, and attitude in confidence. Her  
great, scarlet spiked hair contrasting her deep blue eyes  
dramatically, her orange-yellow short sleeved overcoat hanging  
voluminously from her shoulders.  
  
'Who is she Nasura?' Masurani demanded, biting her words, and temper,  
short. 'Where's Goku?'  
  
The unfamiliar woman gazed at her meaningfully.  
  
'I'm Goku's replacement. It's complicated, but the short of it is he  
finally managed to find home, and he asked me to take his place here.'  
  
'Really,' Masurani began heatedly, in a terse, challenging tone. 'Goku  
was my sensei! Does your power level compare to his? To mine, even?'  
  
'That's you? I'm honoured to meet you,' she smiled, bowing deeply.  
'You are Sailor...'  
  
'Titan,' she offered, face deepening with a sharp and sudden blush as  
she bowed hastily in reply. 'Um... thank you, um...'  
  
'Zia. Actually, Goku and I are about even. We've been friends for a  
few years, and I've helped him out of a few binds.'  
  
'You're Zia?!' she blinked, regarding the buxom woman with skepticism.  
'What are you trained in, anyway, with a figure like that?'  
  
She brushed off the reference to her remarkable body type with a short  
lived grin.  
  
'Silver Claw, mainly.'  
  
Masurani's jaw dropped.  
  
'No way! They almost wouldn't teach me... and I'm nowhere near built  
like you!'  
  
'It's complicated,' Zia stated, one hand moving to a hip, the other  
waving off Masurani's continuing attentions.  
  
'And you're how old?'  
  
'Twenty-four.'  
  
'Holy...!'  
  
Nasura severed the conversation with a curt gesture.  
  
'This is all well and good, but we haven't time for it. Jake?'  
  
'Yes ma'am?' he offered, stepping from beyond the open door to the  
dojo.  
  
'It's time they learned about the CSM.'  
  
He nodded deftly.  
  
"I'm Jake Yyone, for starters," he half smiled as he spoke in western  
accented English. "I command eighty-seven troops who..."  
  
His words were intersected a violent expulsion of force. All eyes fell  
upon Haisha, who rubbed her red nose.  
  
"Sorry," she offered with a sniff, looking dim eyed and ill focused.  
  
"You look pale," Nasura noted with sharp concern. "How are you  
feeling?"  
  
"Sick," she remarked with an irksome grin. "I'll be fine."  
  
"Are you sure?" Ayla quested, examining her military strategist with  
all due anxiety.  
  
"Sure, as long as someone has some tissue," she sniffed, blinking  
slowly. Naritha pulled a handful from a black purse resting upon the  
table at which she sat. "Thanks."  
  
Nasura nodded to Jake.  
  
"Continue."  
  
Looking somewhat stunned, he nodded.  
  
"Sure. Anyway, we're the 'Coalition Society of Mutants.' We're  
basically a bunch of grunts who banded together because our uniqueness  
couldn't be tolerated by our military outfit. You Ayla Apollo?'  
  
Her tense expression eased, and she studied him with a less than  
formal regard.  
  
"That's me," she replied in very faintly Japanese accented English.  
  
He smiled faintly at her. There was a comfortable, and noticeable  
pause before he continued.  
  
"My troops are yours," he stated coolly. She blushed, swallowing,  
feeling a stern warmth rise in her face. He glanced at her, plain  
faced, yet knowing his effect upon her. He bowed his head, releasing  
her from their locked gaze.  
  
"How do you... no," she nigh stuttered, flustered. "Nasura. Of  
course."  
  
"Actually, it was Carl Silver, the angel Minako's husband, who told me  
'bout you."  
  
His smile struck a warm chord through her being. At first she returned  
it, but as the overall seriousness of their immediate situation set  
in, she frowned, crossing her arms across her body.  
  
"How well equipped are your troops?"  
  
He blinked, stunned by her abrupt coldness.  
  
"Very well, thanks to Carl. We have twenty-five power armored  
troops..."  
  
A trio of sneezes tore through the sentence like wet paper.  
  
"Bless you, Haisha," Naritha added thoughtfully. Haisha bowed her head  
apologetically, tossing the torn tissue into a nearby wastebasket as  
she retrieved another with which to wipe her nose.  
  
"What a perfect bloody time for a cold," she cursed to herself.  
  
"Power armored?"  
  
He nodded curtly.  
  
"Exoskeleton robot armor," another female voice elaborated. "Enhances  
all physical capabilities of the pilot."  
  
Zia nodded with a grin. A slender, comparably endowed woman glided up  
to Zia, adorned in leather, her blond bobbed hair framing her innocent  
looking face in a highly stylized manner. Ayla regarded her with a  
non-too-vague unfriendly expression.  
  
"And you are?"  
  
"Nisika," she stated, bowing deeply at the waist. "Hello Ayla Apollo.  
I am ready to assist your war effort."  
  
Ayla glanced at Zia, prodding her for a explanation she determined  
would come soon. Zia's nod went largely unnoted as Nisika swiveled her  
wide hips towards the others, after which her torso followed suit.  
  
"Neo Senshi, introduce yourselves..." Ayla commanded with a strike of  
ire in her tones.  
  
---  
  
A summary, with the multitude of events? Impossible. For who qualifies  
are notable? Even the faintest hint of fledging support?  
  
Doubtful.  
  
The main players, however, quite remarkable.  
  
So, then, just where are we? Or, more precisely, where are they?  
  
Tsukino Usagi. A woman now respected by many, and arguably moreso than  
ever, as an angel of glory. Once a frightened teenager, then a  
frightened Demon Hunter of incredible power then an angel of much  
respect and holiness. Indeed a force who will receive due reckoning.  
  
Chiba Mamoru. The ever-faithful soulmate any woman should desire. His  
integrity could nigh literally shift mountains. Never the scared  
adolescent, and always the confident, powerful protector of the girls  
known as the Pretty Sailor Soldiers, and most notably his wife-to-be,  
Usagi. As Tuxedo Kamen, the champion of good, as an Earth Child, the  
unconditional rage engine of justice, and the time period of which he  
was not born. Now more dedicated to Usagi than ever, their separation  
only strengthening the already deep bond shared.  
  
Mizuno Ami. Unquestionably the most tortured of the five. An  
intellectual young woman placed in a world where such talent means  
little, especially from the perspective of a slave, to the Splugorth.  
Shattered physically by being submitted to the cage of the Coalition.  
Reduced to half-woman half-machine, and to the retreat of her mind. As  
a barmaid in a foreign yet seemingly safer dimension, burning at the  
stake, not to mention the slaughter of her half-demon adopted  
daughter. Then, both reborn as angels, as much as married to...  
  
Natole Shard. A "Warrior of Mercy." With as much physical power to  
inspire the nickname "One-Punch" as ability to heal. A solitary minded  
half-giant with a true, and dedicated heart. In all honesty, it would  
be a fair stretch for him to conceive deception. Like any honorable  
father, loving and kind, warding threat with force of word and power  
of destruction. Together, they have founded new hope in love, life,  
and survival.  
  
Hino Rei. Once the firebrand. As much as that shall change naught. Yet  
where there was once an angry young woman, then a vengeance seeking  
mage of the flame, then a doubtful lover, is a slight more complacent  
expecting angel mother. She has had her trials, her time for  
struggles, as the others, but earned, and deserves the love she has  
received from...  
  
Adolphus Jusine. To what can be attributed this man but enviable  
patience and integrity? Perfect? No, but certainly Rei's world is a  
better one for his place in it. Yet what about him? A gifted mage of  
another realm, one in which Rei was forced to enter into sexual  
contact with a well-loved friend. A point forgiven in the wake of  
Adolphus' insurmountable feelings for her.  
  
Kino Makoto. Always a woman of raw physical intensity, a survivor as  
the others. The innate warrior. As Sailor Jupiter, a skilled senshi,  
the most physically intense of the five girls, and a no-holds barred  
warrior, unafraid to face the truth, and speak when others would not.  
As Sliver, the survivor of Atlantis, a CyberKnight, retrained warrior  
against evil, her focus ever unchanged despite adversity.  
  
:Carl?:  
  
And now, an angel of war, continually willing, and increasingly able  
to destroy the forces employed by Uraki-Ayo.  
  
:Now would be a really good time to begin sending the CSM to the Neo  
Senshi:  
  
:Yes, angel warrior, you are quite right:  
  
Hanlan Ireson. Married, and bonded very dramatically to Makoto,  
enthralled by her beauty and fighting gift. While far from the ideal,  
a charming and faithful man, with a great deal of learned respect for  
his wife. Ultimately confused by Ayana's birth and age, but generous  
in love as acceptance.  
  
Aino Minako. If ever a life was twisted, her is a prime example of  
experience in adversity. Once a teenager of manipulative looks, and  
never far from willing to use her looks to achieve a goal. Yet never  
for want in moral strength. After many months of abuse and  
degradation, losing her looks to the world she already hated. Then,  
after recovering Usagi, her rebirth as an angel, with an appearance  
exceeding her beginning standard by a large degree.  
  
Carl Silver. Her mate, if even of draconian nature. To refuse the love  
learned, pure folly. While doubtful, in the beginning, the possibility  
of consummating their relationship arriving through her  
transformation, evening the field, and opening the doors to their  
world, to their love.  
  
In summary, the most important point being their survival, as  
incredible as it may seem.  
  
---  
  
"Ninety two. Great," Haisha added sarcastically. "Well, I guess that's  
better than nothing. If we don't mount an attack soon, Uraki will,  
even though the Inner Senshi are likely there already. With any luck,  
he'll be too busy to direct his forces to complicate things for us."  
  
"Haisha-chan, I am detecting external motion," Nisika blurted. "Many  
bodies are advancing upon building."  
  
While the rest of the room sat in shock, Zia stood unfazed.  
  
"How many, Nisi?"  
  
The shapely creature gazed at Zia, blinking rapidly.  
  
"They exceed my ability to count. I estimate, however, two to two  
point four thousand hundred bodies given their density and rate of  
approach. Expected time of arrival, one minute, thirty-four seconds."  
  
"Dammit!" Ayla cursed, slipping out of her trance of terror. "Senshi  
transform!"  
  
In no more than a plain burst of light, each young woman manifested  
their peak level of protection.  
  
"Sailor Sol - Crisis Armor Henshin!" Sailor Sol, a flexible suit of  
mystic silver, an extension of her original armlets, breastplate and  
shin guards. Not a crystal shone aside from the miniscule gem glinting  
prettily upon her red-tinted choker. A crimson aura lighted about her,  
an additional buffer against the violence yet to come.  
  
"Sailor Titan - Crisis Armor Henshin!" Sailor Titan, a heavy classic  
suit of plate and chain mail. It was sleek, and ultra-light, despite  
the appearance of girth. A brown plume set upon her helmet, the visor  
of which was transparent, giving her an unobstructed view through it.  
She held a beautifully crafted bladed steel alloy staff, thus prepared  
only physically for the worst.  
  
"Sailor Phoenix - Crisis-is-ah, ah, achooo! ...Armor Henshin!" Sailor  
Phoenix, in a slim casing of curve-hugging mystic metal. The suit  
covered her shoulders where the former had not. Beyond this was her  
aura of living flame, pulsing enraged, seeking personal revenge. She  
slipped both katana and wakasashi blades free of their scabbards, and  
fell into a few motions of ken so deeply ingrained they were nearly  
genetic, then sneezed.  
  
"Oh gross," qouth she at the contents of the sneeze which coated the  
inside of her visor.  
  
"Sailor Seraph - Crisis Armor Henshin!" Sailor Seraph, in a style  
similar to that of her friend, had manifested a bodysuit of polymetal,  
her arms laden with massive gauntlets with great ball-like elbow pads.  
Her hair had disappeared under a thick helmet of carefully reinforced  
chi-charged mystic metal. An aura of seawater-like energy - oddly  
enough - swam about her also, but spiked impressively at her clenched  
hands and narrowed eyes.  
  
"Sailor Mortalis - Death Armor Henshin!" Sailor Mortalis had shielded  
herself in a suit similar to Masurani's, yet the overt darkness  
contrasted the others startlingly and gave them cause to wonder.  
  
"I'm Sailor Mortalis, remember? I couldn't fight in pinks and  
flowers!" she laughed, snapping up a brutal looking pair of silver  
bladed war-hammers. "Are we gonna fight, or what?"  
  
"Yeah, but there's one very important factor missing here," Haisha  
blurted. "Where are the troops?"  
  
"On the way! Carl is transporting them personally!"  
  
"He doesn't have that long!" Ayla observed, to which Haisha nodded  
reply. The group stood in apt tension, awaiting the attack. A steady,  
sub-sonic rumbling increased in strength invariably until it nearly  
reduced the building to its component materials, at which point the  
shuddering halted.  
  
"We are completely encapsulated by our opponents," Nisika noted,  
without the tension in the tones of her nearly erotic voice that  
seemed due.  
  
Dumbly, they gazed about, expecting and almost hoping for the battle  
to just begin. A sharp, agonized gasp snapped forth. The white robed  
form of Nasura cringed and folded in the middle, her face a twisted  
pantomime of unutterable terror and soul-slivered pain. The stun in  
the room was comparable to the hypothetical appearance of Uraki-Ayo  
that very instant. Ayla moved as a bolt of searing light, catching her  
mentor, watching her faintly whisper:  
  
'Forgive me, Ayla-chan.'  
  
Even as her eyes closed, her body drew cold, as ice, the eyelids  
closed by the young woman over her glazed brown eyes.  
  
'Mentor! No!'  
  
Ayla's cry was lost in the thunderous splitting destruction of the  
roof as hundreds of the shadowlings descended in something not too  
unlike bloodthirsty glee.  
  
"Kamehame!" Masurani shouted, a large, sweeping blast vaporizing the  
dozen or so creatures orienting on the emotionally rapt girl.  
  
:Damn you Uraki-Ayo; Haisha thought vindictively. :We don't have time  
to mourn!: "Senshi! Mobilize and strike! Defend Sailor Sol until she  
regains her, uh..."  
  
The sallow deepening of Ayla's aura caught Haisha, bringing her to  
silence. She merely gazed on as the young leader leapt up, Nasura's  
empty, grey corpse falling loosely to the floor, her armored figure  
alight with a crimson aura of emotional power. Like a finely crafted  
katana she sliced a clear path into the depths of the onrushing army,  
and seemed to disappear.  
  
"Zia! After her - uh ... oh. Bloody hell," she cursed, then issued  
forth another violent sneeze. So had she and her companion done.  
Glancing up, and half aware she was watching eight shadowlings  
descending upon her, she cried out as she was knocked down by a  
slender, dark figure.  
  
"C'mon Phoenix, get it together!" Jisuruka snapped, pushing off her  
prone companion. She grinned and squeezed Haisha's thigh suggestively.  
"You're leadin' 'til she gets back. What are we after?"  
  
"Um..." she fought back the stern blush rising in her cheeks, feeling  
grateful for the concealing helmet.  
  
"She'll be back. For now just fight! We've got to beat a path to the  
crystal!"  
  
"Gotcha!" she nodded energetically, before flying into an easy seeming  
violent rage against the literal swarm of enemy.  
  
:At least I hope she will...:  
  
---  
  
=Zia, I can't maintain this speed without burning out my pulse  
accelerators.=  
  
Zia tapped a stylish black oval hair clip just above her left ear.  
  
"Then don't. Get back and help the others."  
  
She nodded, cutting the power to the aforementioned engines and  
seeming to disappear.  
  
=Sorry Zia-san.=  
  
"Y'do what y' can. Forget it."  
  
=I will try.=  
  
---  
  
'I've been waiting for this!' cried a voice triumphantly. Despite her  
apparent fury, she beheld the creature with unmasked shock. 'Stupid  
girl. You want to fight me?'  
  
'Mamoru?!? But that's... that's... you're a clone! Like the others!'  
  
'But so much more powerful than even that whore, Jisi.'  
  
Ayla snarled at this.  
  
'You can't win, you know.'  
  
'I already have. Not going to miss that dried out old husk, are you?  
Neat little trick I..." his voice was severed by a thundering roar as  
his body exploded in a burst of white heat. Glancing up as she clasped  
her hands to her loudly ringing ears, Ayla emitted a brief gasp. Five  
twelve foot tall shining monsters of near mirror like armor hovered  
strangely in the air, looking slightly demonic as they held what  
appeared to be double barreled weapons on one shoulder. The closest of  
the five saluted and spoke in booming tones, which, fortunately,  
topped the loudness of the staccato tones rattling in her head:  
  
"Glitter Men Power Armored Troops at your service Sol Ma'am."  
  
She wanted to fold up and cry, but instead replied his offered salute.  
  
"You're doing fine! Keep it up!" she yelled with feigned confidence.  
  
"Yes Ma'am! Thanks Ma'am!"  
  
:What happened? Just like that? The last clone killed? Nasura's death  
avenged?: As she heard the bellowing of shadowlings about her, she  
decided it would be best not to question Phate's designs. With a  
hesitant snarl, she summoned her daggers of light and fell against the  
wave of rising foe. :There's no time to question it, besides!:  
  
"Frick, I'm barely sixteen! Call me Sailor Sol!"  
  
"Yes Ma'am... uh, Sailor Sol!"  
  
:May God preserve us all!:  
  
---  
  
"Mamoru, needs must we join them!"  
  
The words came across the small table like a gunshot, causing all of  
the battle-tense men to flinch.  
  
"Uh... Of course," he replied, nodding curtly at the somewhat alarmed  
looking Atlantean mage.  
  
"Frickin' hell!" Hanlan growled uneasily. "Where in bloody blazes is  
Carl?"  
  
Without effect, he appeared, looking disheveled, but altogether well.  
  
"I'm done. They've got the troops now. Proving their worth already,"  
he noted breathlessly. "Adolph, cast your spell and get us the hell  
there already!" 


	44. Unuttered, the Ultimate Fear of Loss

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 43: Unuttered, the Ultimate Fear of Loss  
  
His anger, and resulting augmented fear were plain, facing the five  
righteous warriors as they did. In more than a year, the multiverse  
had skewed his plans dramatically, somehow twisting the result to  
their favor, so that they now confronted him with power of which he  
was understandably wary.  
  
It was more than he could have foreseen.  
  
Yet he merely glowered at them, like some hateful statue, unmoving,  
almost attractive in his domineering lance of eyes and face.  
  
It was the moment.  
  
'Why are you alive?' he began, his voice deep, resonating with his  
dramatic emotions. 'If nothing else, I must know that.'  
  
Usagi stared impressively upon him, surrounded by her remarkable  
friends, encircled by a glorious silver light. She said nothing,  
leaving her pure existence to justify where words could clearly not.  
  
:You are not meant to lose:  
  
Phate's words rang with unmarked clarity in the minds of each  
defending warrior. Air surged through her lungs, her angelic body, as  
confidence flowed. Astonished by her audacity, he snarled dangerously,  
nearing the bladed edge, anger further darkening his bearded facade.  
  
'Usagi Tsukino, there is one item, beyond all I have caused to be  
wrought upon you, that you must know.'  
  
:Usako! Summon me!:  
  
:But we don't... we... oh, yes, we do!; Usagi decided, bowing her head  
abruptly, seemingly ignoring their furious opponent. Slowly, each of  
the five women nodded, even Ami, who wore a hesitating smile.  
  
Five successive utterances of brilliant holy light ushered in the  
presence of the same in total familiar beings.  
  
'What is this trickery!'  
  
"Mamoru!" Usagi cried, comforted by the arms he used to shield her as  
well as acknowledge their unavoidable bond. There was a great pause as  
Uraki-Ayo's intent was halted by the multiplication of power before  
him.  
  
:I'm glad you're persistent; she thought, resisting an urge to kiss  
him. :What about the Neo Senshi?:  
  
Even facing his fear of Galaxia, he shuddered at the impressive force  
that had assembled uninterceded before him.  
  
:The troops are powerful enough. They'll be fine; he assured her.  
:Nasura trained them well:  
  
Confidence unimaginably enhanced, she set her assured, unflickering  
glare upon him. With a hateful snarl, he drew his hand, clenched about  
a hardwood staff of pulsing invisible energy, and caused a hole in the  
fabric of reality, which strained back into time, to form before them.  
At first, it was dark, revealing nothing, as a wall of grey stone  
would. As he spoke, however, images of a forest, of the dawn of events  
drawing to this point, began to form.  
  
'I am impressed. Genuinely, personally impressed. None of my senshi,  
not even your clone-sister, Jisuruka, has succeeded as you and yours  
have. You and I... no other greater power next to the kindred souls of  
the universe shall ever be known again.'  
  
:Your arrogance serves you well, Uraki; chimed a silk-like voice of  
entreating death.  
  
Usagi watched in concealed horror, a scene she had not been witness  
to; Rei beaten aside like a great paper doll by the powerful elemental  
lion, and as she fell in a torn heap, the spell wavered, as if a stone  
had been skipped across its pond. The Usagi of past arrived, gasping  
and crying out at her friend's near deathly wounding.  
  
'You could have evaded this.'  
  
There were eleven unmistakable sharp intakes of disbelieving breath,  
and a throaty, omnipresent female chuckle. The image portrayed the  
sailor suited leader turn to the flame lion rather than take Sailor  
Mars into her trembling arms. Those same arms trembled with an  
overwhelming rage and sparking agony as Mars passed on, pushing  
crimson in a final breath through her lips and slumping into a  
motionless heap.  
  
Within the image, even as Usagi's somewhat trebly voice rose in a  
jarring scream, Mercury, Jupiter, and Venus gave cries of  
heart-shattered defeat. Usagi's pain fueled her power, pushing it  
beyond the limits she would never have known until then. A hedonistic  
scarlet light flashed into existence around her, shattering the blue  
portal which had barely formed, dissipating the beastly flame lion  
with a horrible, scrying roar, and introducing such violence to her  
friends that they would spend months in the hospital to only wind up  
paraplegics for the remainder of their lives.  
  
The image slackened like a dropped curtain, and faded out of  
effectiveness, as well as reality.  
  
'The cost, as incredible as your current lives, could have saved you  
so much, Usagi.' A hand had appeared in the darkness, gloved in white,  
virgin silk. He took it, bringing it gently to his lips. 'But consider  
the possibility...' he smiled, taking the slender arm out of the  
shadows and drawing the rest of her white gowned body into the remote,  
off-white light.  
  
Usagi then drew in such a length of air that she felt somehow nauseous  
of it.  
  
'Usagi, no...' Ami whispered in a high, wan voice.  
  
'Hello Usagi-chan,' she smiled, trailing her free hand across the span  
of silk across her thighs, up between the delicately detailed silk  
half covering her cosmetically augmented breasts, and to her affected  
pout of a red lipped mouth. The smile itself was no event, it was the  
twisted emotions dancing in her dreadfully familiar eyes that nearly  
drove Usagi to fearsome tears.  
  
'What are you trying to pull, Uraki?' Mamoru snarled boldly, stepping  
forth vocally.  
  
'Aren't I what you always wanted?' she hefted her breasts with a  
nasty, unpleasant grin. 'Just the way mine liked 'em.'  
  
Shocked, Usagi faced Mamoru, and queried of him with her eyes and the  
soft expulsion of his name.  
  
'No,' he denied faintly. 'You know my heart, Usako. That's never what  
I wanted.'  
  
Wistfully, she nodded, reading in his heart the very truth and feeling  
that without it, her doubt would have certainly led her astray of his  
undeniable loyalty. Her eyes fell upon the parallel of herself, and  
took to unconscious study.  
  
In this oversexed woman, Usagi read the difference in the choice. By  
turning that angry power to sustain Rei rather than allow her to  
perish, she had demonstrated love, and integrity. Somehow this had  
kept her through the torturous years of life on the besieged Earth of  
the rifts. And yet... the woman before had succumbed to her more base  
desires. The ultimately rare, but thwarted thought of having a man  
dominate her, as some willess sex object, to turn around and use the  
ginuizisho against friend and foe alike, to forsake her mother's wish  
and partake of the self-forbidden sake she knew her mother kept. To  
plunge into every iniquitous lure that tugged at her soul, to deny her  
higher self. The righteous, the loving, the moral.  
  
'I know you,' Usagi stated surely, gripping all the more tightly to  
Mamoru's calming firm hand and arm. 'And yes, I did make that choice.  
We were the same girl once, but not anymore. Uraki-Ayo seduced you.'  
  
'So? You think I don't know that? I know you too angel girl,' her  
alter replied tartly. 'I know inside there you're curious what it's  
like to abandon yourself to your animal, hentai thoughts. I mean, come  
on, you never had the courage to seduce Minako. I did. Her being  
crippled just made it more interesting.'  
  
Usagi snarled disgust.  
  
'Oh really,' she huffed, thrusting her noticeably wider hips against  
Uraki-Ayo. 'What about Rei and Minako? Didn't you ever wonder? I  
didn't get to see it, but oooh, wow, don't you wish had it on tape?'  
  
'You bitch!' Rei growled ferally.  
  
'There's plenty more angel girl,' he threatened, seeming to ignore Rei  
as she caressed Uraki's thigh suggestively. 'Like how I let my Mamoru  
role-play me against my will...'  
  
'Stop!' Usagi finally flared, the idea firing a searing flare across  
her consciousness, and summoning a dark presence in her stomach. The  
innocently coloured but diametrically opposed young woman fell silent  
with a triumphant smirk. Rage boiled within the angelic Usagi.  
  
Her darker counterpart was winning.  
  
'You are a lie!' Mamoru declared. 'What does this prove, that you have  
forsaken your Moon Kingdom.'  
  
'Moon Kingdom?' she paled, turning to Uraki, who waved his hand  
negatingly.  
  
'He has tricked you, Princess!' Mamoru asserted.  
  
'Shut up!' Uraki snarled vehemently, taking a step forward.  
  
'What does he mean?' she asked, her face as a lost doe. 'Princess?'  
  
'He is confused,' he assured her. 'If you are a Princess, it is of my  
Kingdom here. Forget him. Remember how he treated you.'  
  
'Hm,' she mused, Uraki's desire settling itself back upon her  
unsubjected will.  
  
'I have nothing to hide,' the angel Usagi stated, a rush of  
uncertainty teasing emotional vertigo and making her head spin. There  
was silent moment where she attempted to clear her emotion webbed  
thoughts. 'I have nothing to regret, except maybe what I have not  
done...'  
  
'Oh please,' the other drawled, bored already. 'Save the 'I'm holier  
than thou' speech for someone who gives a damn. I've watched you all  
those years. I know how I would have loved to abuse the demon hunter  
powers you had. Just so, so cool. Too bad you're a  
kissy-face-angel-pie-lovey-dovey-goody-two-wings now.'  
  
Usagi scowled fearsomely.  
  
'What do you want?' she demanded vehemently. Her dark twin seemed not  
to notice her words.  
  
'Obviously you're too angel-sweet for casual sex and multiple  
partners, drugs, telepathic trips playing with other peoples' minds,  
and all that fun stuff. But baby,' she leaned forward, displaying the  
ample crevasse between her unnaturally round breasts,'"haven't you  
ever just thought about it? Turning over the Astroturf to see what's  
under?'  
  
'You know I have,' she admonished, adversity proven strength in her  
tones. 'But I never acted on those feelings. I wasn't even until I  
became Sailor Moon that I even felt them. Besides, they were fleeting.  
No more than curiosity. I love my family, Dad, Mom, by brother, and  
Mamoru too much.'  
  
The miscreant Usagi rolled her eyes.  
  
'Fine,' she moped. Her voice then turned callous, challenging. 'I just  
have one more question.'  
  
Usagi instinctively marshaled her defenses as she felt the sour,  
bitter manna coalesce within her alter's sultrily modified body.  
  
'Who's stronger?'  
  
Usagi was immediately hard pressed to counter the strike of her shadow  
self, until Mamoru joined in, wrapping his free arm about her as he  
did so.  
  
'Not fair!'  
  
It was clear to her that part of the cacophony of anger they blocked  
came from the outrage of her gaining what she could not; honest love.  
For in truth, Usagi gleaned from her alter's open mind, the Mamoru  
Chiba in her embittered life had become everything she feared; an  
abuser and an alcoholic. To evade his victimization of her, she had  
submitted herself to the sexual interest of whomever could, or would,  
stifle her emotional need, as well as turning to every mind blotting  
method she could find. The breast augmentation she had succumbed to  
out of fear of his randomly violent will. The rest, in desperate hopes  
of sustaining what remained of her sanity. The rest of the senshi, on  
the other hand, had collectively lived no more than eight months.  
Ami's mother had finally willed the release of her daughter from the  
life sustaining device to which she had been attached for three  
emotionally scarring months. Minako survived five, conscious, but  
depressed by her friend's taking advantage of her, while Makoto  
retreated her will to live last, no longer perceiving purpose in life,  
unable to do something as simple as walking.  
  
Her sole desire was to punish her angelic self for what she conceived  
and felt she could never have. However, as her emotional turmoil  
flagged, as she felt it pour through her hands in the company of the  
viscous but somehow unsatisifyingly lonely manna concentration, the  
inner shard of underlying doubt as to her true purpose came forth. For  
it is no surprise to learn that even all of her years of seeking  
companionship and acceptance through sex, mind-altering chemicals,  
violence, and other self nullifying means, she was not evil, only  
wanting.  
  
Uraki-Ayo felt only disappointment as his long term bedmate and mystic  
companion tumbled to her knees, the tears of nearly two decades  
bottled hurt pouring over her suddenly flushed cheeks.  
  
"Usagi," she rasped, a staggering cold roaring through her stiffening  
limbs. "Forgive me! I... never knew..!"  
  
The target of her pleas moved not, but soared to her emotionally,  
knowing intimately her skewed being.  
  
"I never had a mother," she wept, her eyes locked to her consummate  
dimensional compatriot. "Mama died when I was born... Please...  
forgive me!"  
  
As her eyes fluttered closed, she fell forward, but never touched the  
frigid, stone floor. Her lifeless form had departed that reality long  
before then. Usagi let her barriers recede, glaring with such  
intensity at Uraki-Ayo Ginzui that he was forced to gather his great  
store of spells and manna to maintain his failing confidence.  
  
:Tell me Galaxia; Uraki-Ayo demanded boldly. :Are these the fruits of  
manipulating Luna's alter self?:  
  
:This set back does not concern me. Nor should it you! The final hand  
has yet to be dealt:  
  
:But it is backfiring!; he thought desperately, both outraged and  
further brought anxiety. He could see that her friends only cared more  
deeply now that the antagonist summoning alter-self had not inspired  
mistrust!  
  
:The final hand, you say, my Queen? It has been dealt:  
  
The time for words had passed. The time for action rose, and he heeded  
it.  
  
And a planet tearing flare of inconceivable rage it was.  
  
Imagine, as you would, white garbed soldiers, in silken robes and  
dresses, structured as a line of musket wielding warriors. Each  
clasping hand, perturbing, returning, and balking a force striking  
them as a sudden teleportation into the core of a collapsing sun.  
Continue, then, as they raise joined hands and arms to reply in kind,  
until they suffer unprotected, yet inflicting incredible damage upon  
the enemy.  
  
Imagine, then, as you only can, a planet shattering into numberless  
shards. Select a known image, a popular one, or simply create one.  
Make it remarkable, or uninteresting as you desire.  
  
For there are not the words. They do not exist for how awesome and  
horrific the final attack was.  
  
All that matters, is that they survived. 


	45. Nigh, The Final Conflict

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Chapter 44: Nigh, The Final Confrontation  
  
'Neo Senshi maintain your positions!' Ayla commanded with  
ill-confidence in their waning strength. Masurani grunted as she made  
a corpse of another shadowling by impalement.  
  
'Not as,' she deftly gave a smooth, upward sweep with her staff, the  
energy of it slicing three creatures into sections. '...Easy as it...'  
she blocked the swiping strike of a dark blade, '...looks!'  
  
'Hai,' Haisha agreed, fighting back a sneeze as much as nimbly ducking  
and weaving around several strikes before slashing furiously with her  
fiery samurai blade. 'We're...' she paused an instant to sneeze  
harshly. 'Weakening, and the CSM is losing their ground. We're only  
outnumbered three-to-one, but we're still outclassed. They've gotten  
stronger!'  
  
'Odd to admit weakness Phoenix-chan!' Naritha stated with a rough  
voice and only hinted humour, knowing the seriousness of their  
situation.  
  
Haisha could only frown, frustrated. As the circle tightened, each  
warrior seemed to feel their control slipping, angry, hurt, and  
accepting somehow they had done what they could.  
  
:Damn, she's forgotten!:  
  
She watched the five member fighting group recede while the enemy  
surrounded them, pressing their advantage even while bickering amongst  
itself. Her eyes narrowed in scrutiny. She winced, watching Haisha  
collapse, to be caught by Masurani who seemed to call something. The  
ill girl nodded slightly.  
  
:No! It's not her fault! She's not taking the seed because I didn't  
give her any for her team!; she noted, cursing her own foolishness.  
She hefted the heavy, two handed blade (which she held with only one),  
and promptly disappeared.  
  
Haisha saw the blade descend, and knew she had not the strength to  
deflect it.  
  
But it never landed. Abruptly, the shadowling was reduced to pieces  
before dissolving with a familiar low-pitched hiss. The other two  
dozen surrounding creatures were destroyed similarly.  
  
'Ayla?'  
  
She was adorned in a deep purple cat suit with thick, white gloves and  
boots, an orange sleeve raised collar overcoat, an iridescent silver  
pendent, scabbard upon her back, and a dagger strapped to her left  
calf.  
  
Ayla blinked at the sudden change in her aunt.  
  
"You look so different! Um..."  
  
"Older? Look, don't worry about it now. Take the seed! I've got more  
for the rest of your senshi. A promise is a promise."  
  
She reached into a previously unnoticed pouch and retrieved several  
seed while Ayla consumed hers. Her reddened, blurry eyes came into  
focus, the heavy grey mist of fatigue lifted from her mind as her  
wounds lightened, and all but faded completely.  
  
'Wow,' she breathed, amazed beyond belief as she exercised her  
newfound speed, briefly disappearing. 'I feel incredible!'  
  
She nodded before approaching Masurani, who arched an eyebrow at Ayla,  
breathing deeply, on the edge of baby-like weakness.  
  
'These things are conditional,' she warned, proffering a seed to the  
hesitant young woman. 'You'll get your strength back more than  
twofold, but there's a price.'  
  
'For that I'll take my bloody chances!' she declared, swallowing the  
seed and reveling in the instant rush of power that flowed through her  
being. She snarled eagerly, flaring an angry white aura about her  
body.  
  
'Let's take 'em!'  
  
As they recovered, the others nodded agreement.  
  
'Frick, I can breathe!' Haisha laughed. 'I don't know what that did,  
but now my head is only throbbing a little!'  
  
Naritha growled, raising her arms from which an impressive arc of  
energy spiked.  
  
'We end battle now!' she declared, summoning the pair of energy-based  
gauntlets which she had previously lost due to her weakness. 'Uraki  
lose now!'  
  
Jisuruka caused a pool of dark light to consume them, bringing gasps  
of shock to the five other young women.  
  
'What are you doing Sailor Mortalis?' Ayla demanded.  
  
'The first thing that came to mind,' she stated. 'You want us to get  
to the crystal so we can toast it, right?'  
  
'Yes,' she began suspiciously. 'How will this help?'  
  
'Look,' Haisha gestured, gazing at the confused looking shadowlings as  
they milled about the dark cocoon of energy. 'They can't see us!'  
  
'Right. I knew I could do this, I just didn't have the power for it.'  
  
'What?! We have other powers?' Ayla started, looking aghast. Haisha  
looked puzzled, regarding her mystified leader.  
  
'You mean you don't...' she shared a smirk with Naritha. 'Sol, our  
crystals will do anything we tell them to! Just get creative! You'll  
know if you've got the chi for it.'  
  
'Vampire!' Naritha cried, eyes wide with fear.  
  
'W-what?!' Ayla stammered, sure she had heard the last recent  
weirdness.  
  
'You!' she pointed, glaring at Zia. 'Say nothing, but need chi to  
survive! You chi-vampire!'  
  
Ayla whirled upon her dear relative with an expression of total  
disillusionment.  
  
'Naritha wouldn't lie,' she growled. 'She almost doesn't know how!  
What does she mean!?'  
  
Zia bowed her head as she spoke.  
  
'That was my cost,' she admitted. 'That's what taking the seed did to  
me.'  
  
'Why didn't you say anything? I trust you, it...'  
  
'Of course it would have made a difference. Are you sure you would  
have trusted me anyway?'  
  
Ayla glanced at Naritha.  
  
'Not evil, Sol-chan. She loves too much to hurt, you or us.'  
  
'Then why did you react like that?'  
  
Naritha bowed, embarrassed.  
  
'Never felt power of hers before! In nature of kind scared me! Dark  
hunger in soul frighten me.'  
  
Mortalis spoke, breaking the tension.  
  
'I can't hold this for much longer! If we're going to destroy that  
frippin' crystal, let's do it!'  
  
'Take us there, Mortalis. Haisha, I want you to figure out how to  
penetrate its shield. I'll take care of shattering it.'  
  
'Hai, Sailor Sol.'  
  
Ayla turned on Zia again, anger still burning within.  
  
'You knew this would happen. You know my senshi almost as well as I  
do. Why didn't you just tell me?'  
  
Zia hesitated before issuing words forth, for there seemed so little  
to say.  
  
'I guess I screwed up by underestimating you. I wasn't sure if you  
were prepared to put so much faith in me. Especially after leaving you  
and your mother the way I did, and after being away for so long.'  
  
Zia fell silent, and Ayla read in her face why. :That's all there is  
to it:  
  
'I still love you Zia-san,' Ayla professed. 'Even though it creeps me  
out. I still trust you. It might have taken a while, but you've always  
told me the truth, even when I didn't want to hear it. I will always  
love you.'  
  
Ayla drifted forward and hugged Zia tightly, who responded in kind.  
After a warmth sharing moment, they parted, and Ayla offered another  
insightful comment:  
  
'I know you why you were away. My grandmother, Lia, teaching you  
Dragon Claw style? You know she's not the only one in my family to  
have mastered it.'  
  
Zia offered Ayla a questioning glance, confirmed by a curt nod.  
  
'I received my sixth degree black belt not long before becoming a  
KnightsMage.'  
  
Zia whistled, impressed.  
  
'So it skipped a generation? I was wondering. Your Mama-san took  
Tai-chi instead.'  
  
'So that's why grandma got so upset when we talked about that!'  
  
Zia nodded.  
  
'Well, it took me four years, and I'm only third degree black.  
Technically you could be my sensei.'  
  
'Four years?! It took me almost four times as long to reach that  
point! So, sure... If I didn't count your higher power level and half  
dozen other mastered forms,' Ayla stated, rolling her eyes with a  
sarcastic grin.  
  
'Higher! Not by a long shot!'  
  
She set the woman with a curious expression.  
  
'What do you mean?'  
  
'If what I sense is right, then your power has more than quintupled! I  
don't know why... or how, but...'  
  
Ayla grinned, flaring her aura to a deeper, severe looking red. The  
four others hovered away slightly, giving Ayla ample space.  
  
'So this is just the tip of the iceberg...' she hissed with a  
death-seeking grin.  
  
'Holy flippin' hell!' Masurani whispered, her eyes locked on the  
incredible power source she felt from her recently comparatively weak  
friend. 'What the heck are we gettin' into...?'  
  
---  
  
'Most impressive, Tsukino Usagi, Queen of the shattered Moon Kingdom.'  
  
'It's not...'  
  
'It IS!' Galaxia retorted. 'I saw to that personally!'  
  
The group of warriors shuddered in the dim purple light which had come  
to surround them out of the darkness following the destruction of  
Uraki-Ayo Ginzui.  
  
'Why tell us what we already know?' Ami demanded, stepping forward.  
'It no longer matters!'  
  
'Oh really? Tell me why.'  
  
'Because we are here.'  
  
There was a drawn out laughter. Natole gave a lingering gasp, dropping  
to his knees. There was a flicker as Ami rushed to him, and he was  
gone.  
  
'Do you really believe that? "I will win because I am here." A fool's  
arguement, surely!'  
  
'Natole!' Ami cried, falling on her knees in the place he had last  
resided.  
  
'I will take everything you have.'  
  
Ami shuddered, eyes wide, her body fading away as the purple light  
retreated.  
  
'Amiii!' Usagi cried, her voice receiving no reply. 'No!'  
  
Usagi gripped tightly to Mamoru, who in failing to bring light to  
their surroundings, became an even more secure anchor in their plight.  
  
'Obviously you overestimated your power,' the voice glowered. 'You  
have all overstayed your welcome.'  
  
Then, like the flickering violent power of lightning, Galaxia struck.  
As she did, the final surprised images of each seemingly unbeatable  
warrior bore permanent places in Usagi's consciousness. As did the  
voices in their last echoing cries. Weeping and seeking desperately  
the source, a hole was rent in her soul as the presence she so dearly  
desired was suddenly removed.  
  
'Mamoru! Noooo!'  
  
'You are a fool, child!'  
  
The purple light returned, displaying Usagi hanging in the air, curled  
up against herself, her tears slowly subsiding as one thing came to  
her: She was alive.  
  
'You can't kill me, can you...' she muttered faintly, raising her  
head.  
  
Silence.  
  
'Why not?'  
  
A crimson beam struck her abruptly, sending her tumbling against a  
wall, in which she carved a niche. She spat blood, elbowing herself  
out of the wall.  
  
'Ugghh,' she groaned.  
  
'You simple, stupid child. Are you disillusioned enough to believe  
yourself immortal? You can die. You will die.'  
  
The next struck her left wing, shattering the delicate bones within,  
so that she collapsed upon the ground. She lay there no longer than an  
instant, dragging herself to her feet.  
  
'Why are you taking your time?' she winced, holding her shattered arm.  
'Why not wipe me out as you did my friends?'  
  
'Because I wish you to experience the pain I have known!'  
  
As her other wing splintered under the force of another strike,  
Usagi's mind clicked upon something familiar. Pain. And yes, how she  
had experienced it. How chaotic her life had been during their  
struggle in the alternate Earth...  
  
---  
  
Haisha trembled and shook as the dark tendrils of force roared through  
her body, her hands laid upon a shield only visible were they met. Her  
head tossed back, eyes aglow with a white light, before she closed  
them and pulled away.  
  
'Now!' she commanded.  
  
Ayla raised her glowing arms, her aura spiked about them as she neared  
the twisting black hurricane swirling about the Vortex crystal. The  
other senshi kept a path clear for Ayla, beating back any shadowling  
that neared, dispersing them easily now.  
  
:Naritha! Guide me!:  
  
Squinting and pushing her hands in front of her, she made as if to  
dive into the surface of the crystal. With a cheer from the other  
senshi, she plunged past the ward of dark force which had previously  
blocked them from their target. She flew forth, nearing the shimmering  
surface of the great nexus of energy, and with an earth shuddering  
rumble, disappeared into its surface.  
  
'Sailor Sol?!' Masurani gasped after passing moments of battle.  
  
The rumbling returned, the power of it threefold, startling warrior,  
senshi and shadowling alike, who halted, gazing motionlessly at the  
monstrous capsule of chi. Haisha blinked, gazing at the potential  
victory, and determined to act upon it.  
  
'Senshi! Strike while the enemy is distracted! Full force!'  
  
Masurani grinned.  
  
'She asked for it! Sailor Titan - Blazing Force Henshin!'  
  
Her body became a living extension of her greatest energy expulsion,  
glowing with a furious light as she struck down the opposing force in  
multiples of tens. Naritha ushered similar numbers of shadowlings back  
to their dimension with large bolts of energy surging forth from her  
gauntlets.  
  
'Sailor Seraph - Banish Storm!'  
  
Haisha would have laughed at this pronouncement, except for her own  
focus, and its effectiveness. The sudden snow which descended caused  
any shadowling which came in contact with it to burst into dust  
immediately. By the time she had decided upon a course of attack, it  
no longer seemed necessary.  
  
'No!' Zia exclaimed. 'Ayla hasn't succeeded yet! They're still  
coming!'  
  
'Cripes! Sailor Phoenix - Molten Firebirds!'  
  
Dozens upon dozens of winged creatures of seething flame swarmed  
across the sky, picking at the shadowlings and reducing their numbers.  
Haisha glanced at Mortalis, who had yet to contribute her attack.  
  
'Sailor Mortalis - Holy Warrior Henshin!'  
  
It was then their attitude towards the strange, clone warrior was  
forever altered. Her armor assumed a flawless white, and the form of a  
classic knight, while in place of war hammers was a gleaming  
broadsword of forged mystic silver, a shield of white and crimson, and  
an aura of near blinding presence. Individually, she destroyed  
hundreds of creatures in mere minutes, a white blur from even Zia's  
enhanced perspective.  
  
:Why are you taking so long Ayla?!; Haisha thought worriedly. The  
rumbling had become a form of white noise, until it increased, and  
finally shattered with an earth shuddering roar. A rain of shimmering  
crystal dust permeated the air.  
  
'Now it's only what's left!' Masurani cheered, even though she still  
beheld another five hundred or so creatures yet to be laid waste...  
  
---  
  
'Grrraaaaah! No!'  
  
:The Neo Senshi have succeeded!; Usagi felt. The weakening of  
Galaxia's aura was so dramatic, that she sensed she may yet have a  
chance.  
  
'Fight me!'  
  
The midnight haired figure glared at Usagi, amazed by her lack of  
retaliation, and that of defense.  
  
'No. I won't fight you. You are wrong about the Moon Kingdom,  
Galaxia,' she murmured, leaning heavily against a stone pillar, one  
eye swollen shut, her kimono torn and falling from her bruised and  
slashed body.  
  
'There is nothing! The rubble of your life upon the Moon was blown to  
dust centuries ago! If you believe anything else, than you are idiot!'  
  
'The kingdom lives, the joy, the love, and hope. All of it, the great  
castle which I spent the years of my youth with Queen Serenity. It  
lives within me. Within my heart and soul. If there is something I  
have learned over the last years of exile, it's that home is where you  
make it, where ever you may be. Home is where you love, live, and  
hope! I have renewed hope because of the faith others have put in me,  
and the love, and friendship they have given. You cannot kill that. My  
friends, like the Moon Kingdom, will never die, so long as I remember  
them.'  
  
Even from the great distance between them, Usagi could feel the harsh  
scowl upon Galaxia's fury distorted visage.  
  
'You have no friends... no future, and during your deserved exile you  
suffered so greatly! How can you still have this determination?!'  
  
'Because I cannot let you win.'  
  
'Then fight me. You cannot defeat me otherwise.'  
  
'No. I will not.'  
  
'Fool!' she cackled. 'Then you will die, Tsukino Usagi! And everything  
you hold dear will perish with you!'  
  
Even as she was tossed against the floor by a further damaging blast,  
her mind reached out defensively, striking into Galaxia's  
consciousness. Within, was...  
  
'Usagi-san!' chirped a tiny, female voice. That of a child, some  
three, four years of age. Physically, at least. She wore a uniform  
like that of years past, white suit, blue skirt, red bow. It was all  
so familiar, even for the time in distance passed. 'You must help. You  
must fight!'  
  
'Why? Who are you?'  
  
The little girl regarded her seriously.  
  
'I am her,' she pointed, to the seemingly frozen Galaxia. 'I am a  
shard of her soul. She is too weak to bind me anymore!'  
  
'I don't understand,' she whispered, gasping out in agony as her leg  
described the bone which had been slivered to fragments. 'What does it  
mean?'  
  
'You are going to save us. You see, a long time ago we fought Chaos,'  
she blinked. 'Even the best Senshi in the universe could not win  
against it. Except us. There was no other greater senshi in the entire  
universe. We faced it. In order to win, we absorbed Chaos into us. It  
was too much! Too much! It took us over! We turned against our allies,  
stealing their power, making it our own. It was intoxicating. So we  
let those who wished to serve us gather more power on our behalf. We  
destroyed the other senshi. Every last one.'  
  
'Like my friends!' she breathed shallowly.  
  
The small girl nodded.  
  
'You must fight! It is the only way to defeat Chaos!'  
  
'I can't! I can't even stand!' she started, shaking violently. 'I  
don't have the power...'  
  
'Enough!' Galaxia snapped. Instantly Usagi heard the link between the  
two, the age difference in the same voice. 'There is nothing she can  
do! She will die, and fulfill her destiny!'  
  
:It's not about power...; a distant, older female voice said.  
  
:What...?:  
  
'FIGHT!!'  
  
'Ughh!'  
  
:It never was:  
  
:I know you!!:  
  
'What?!?' Galaxia started, falling short as she prepared another surge  
of violent force. Slowly, Usagi began to rise from the ground,  
hovering erratically.  
  
'You are Sailor Galaxia!'  
  
'You are a fool, child!' the woman retorted, but did not laugh.  
  
'You wanted me because I was the only one strong enough...'  
  
'Rrrraaaagggh!!'  
  
'Fight Usagi!' the girl chimed, fading away as the blast washed over  
Usagi, pulling her out of the air and slamming her into another wall.  
  
For a ponderous, fearful swatch of time, Usagi was motionless, her  
body a swirling pit of agony, her mind clouded and dispersed. It  
wasn't until she recalled the sacrifice of her dear, loving, and loyal  
friends that she willed herself move, even though doing so summoned  
more pain than being struck again by Galaxia.  
  
'To...' she spat crimson. 'To save you!'  
  
With that, Usagi rose, a familiar power surging through her body. It  
had taken time, but what healing power she provided others, was  
available to her. In a wash of turquoise it restored her to the state  
of their initial encounter, sans a wealth of internal chi. With  
determined eyes, she summoned a glass shield, and leapt towards her  
far removed target. The first crimson blast of unholy fury was parried  
by no more than a naked hand, while those in wait landed upon the  
shield, leaving nothing so much as a scorch mark.  
  
'The child lies!' Galaxia stormed, causing the cave to shudder and  
rain stone missiles as Usagi neared. 'She is but a child, and does not  
understand! There is nothing you can do!'  
  
Usagi pressed on, having covered half the distance towards her. It was  
obvious now. With so much energy expended, she could only manage  
simple dark force blasts. Moreover, her will was not behind them!  
Ultimately, she landed before the woman, who was gorgeous despite her  
dark nature. Usagi banished the shield and took towards her, easily  
dodging her sluggish defensive movements and laying her hands upon her  
shoulders.  
  
Somewhere within, a woman of identical form, yet deep red hair and  
countenance of light gazed upwards, and smiled. 


	46. Epilogue

Sailor Moon/Rifts Crossover (Revised Edition) By Simon Woodington  
  
Epilogue  
  
Dear Ayana,  
  
I know you've wondered how we made it in the battle against Uraki-Ayo, even after Usagi-san told us we all died. Well sweetie, so have I. Often. Usagi won't question that it came down to her again, just like facing Queen Beryl. This time, I know it's different. Forget the fact that she was pairing off against the very source of the NegaVerse, she didn't have us with her! It wasn't until Galaxia restored Chaos with Usagi's help, to where it should be; in pieces everywhere, that we came back.  
  
How else can I describe it? We were dead. Well, we didn't exist, and then, we did! I've stopped trying to get my head around it. Not that being an angel actually seems to help me make any sense of it. Go figure.  
  
I asked her about Uraki. Fighting him made a lot more sense to me. Even though I've been using chi channeling for so much of the war, I can't resist the urge just to hit something. It's just part of who I am. Anyway, Usagi seems to believe that being with our husbands that made the difference. Ami won't admit it, but I think she feels the same. Honestly, I couldn't stand being there without your father. Having his strength by my side made me much more comfortable. It always has.  
  
You probably understand that now, being engaged. As for Rei, she was pretty sure it had something to do with the teleportation that started this whole thing back in Rifts Japan. I said "pretty sure," so there's a fair amount of doubt there. I don't know why, but Minako won't comment. I think she's more concerned about trying to get pregnant.  
  
I still think it's weird she fell in love with a dragon. But, I think I've gotten used to their being a couple, with their living with us and the Shirinaui family. Oy, not to mention the fact that being an angel seems to make it even. That's even more strange. I know the most important thing is the love, and the relationship, but the difference in race is a little hard to accept. Though I suppose when she gets married I'll have a... dragon for an in-law? Okay, so I haven't explained that yet. We've decided to reform the Silver Clan. The clan itself has been disbanded for long enough now. All of this has brought us closer, if nothing else.  
  
Not that there isn't! Minako and Rei have worked out the situation they were forced into in Atlantis. They've had to. Joining the clan means we're all going to be much closer now. We're buying a fair amount of land, and sort of forming our own village. Well, not officially, but you know what's like. It's going to be awhile, but plans are coming together rapidly! We'll really growing together.  
  
That reminds me! Tristan just started preschool! You should have been there! Your little brother looked so adorable in the denim jumpsuit you sent! I took pictures, so you can see them when you come by for Christmas. We're so looking forward seeing you.  
  
Maybe you would consider staying?  
  
Well, we can talk about that later. I don't want to get started, yet. So what else is new? Oh! I just heard from your Aunt Ami. She's with child, and it's a normal pregnancy, thank heavens. She's decided on a water birth, you know that? I think that's so neat! I'm very happy for her, since Natole and she have been trying for so long. It's too bad the four of you decided to stay on Canor, we really miss you over here.  
  
I guess I'm trying to say something. I mean, I keep on coming back to this. Ah, it can wait. There's still more news!  
  
Rei and Adolphus are married, and Yin is doing well. He just started walking the day I wrote this letter! Watching him is so much like watching you at that age. He's so gorgeous, very much like his mother. It's no surprise his hair is raven black. They're very proud of him. Not just Rei and Adolphus, but also everyone else. It's amazing, but the children are surrounded by such love. It's a wonder to think they should ever want for family. Funny thing is, it also means there's always a babysitter nearby in an emergency. Actually, it helps. There was so much tension during the war, during the last year, and now we just get to be normal and raise our families. I know you're thinking "but what you are is normal." The idea that what we were during the war might be normal disturbs me. But, I'm not going to dwell on it. There are others things that are definitely more important.  
  
I get to cook after so long! That in itself is a miracle.  
  
Speaking of miracles, how are you and Jaden? How is Sapphine? Is she recovering? Let me know when we should expect invitations dear. Your wedding is the last thing I would ever want to miss!  
  
I guess you're wondering about Tenma. It's been difficult for her. Being a single parent, I mean. It has helped a lot that she's back with Mai and Andy, and that we're all providing physical and emotional support for her. She struggles with the fact that men are shunning her because of Tisuro. That kind of shallowness just angers me. She is a sweet, beautiful, warm hearted young woman, and yet men can be so blind! I have faith, however, that she will fall in love. She's destined to be with someone, I know it! A guy who will give her the love, support, and respect she deserves. As I see it, it's just a matter of time.  
  
As for Kai, she's pushing for her Masters Degree in Holistic Sciences. She's very talented. On a more romantic note, she did just meet this charming Canadian exchange student. His name his Jason! I nearly passed out laughing when I heard that. The name of your puppy-love boyfriend? Absolutely sweet!  
  
Oh, that brings me to another bit of news! How can you tell Usagi and Mamoru have been busy? She's due in a couple of weeks, and is expecting twins! A pair of bright spirited girls! Amazing. She's so blessed. So was I when I had you. Such a shining light in my life when I so needed it. Oh, all of this and I haven't even asked about you! How is the training? I never wanted to become a KnightsMage. Somehow being an Angel of War was enough. I understand you've been elected to the council of the Felynx Consummate? What do you do? It must be difficult. I know what it's like to be psychic and live around such unrest. But, I guess rebuilding a society from scratch would be anything but easy.  
  
I can't hold back any longer! Ayana, Papa and I miss you so terribly! I know I shouldn't pressure you, but in my heart it doesn't feel right that you should be so far from us. I love you with all of my soul, and not having you in the same dimension as me is well, like having a piece of me missing. I think you took an arm and a good chunk my brain when you left. I have prayed at length, for weeks, honestly, to know whether I should ask you to come home. By this, you know the answer I received. I would love you to be here with your family. Papa actually cried last night. It's breaking his heart. He loves you so much, even though he never says it in so many words.  
  
Yes, that is a guilt trip, sweetie. Sometimes I wish you had been here during the war. At least I could have watched over you myself! It was hard to let you go. But then, I really had little choice. You were in so much danger. We all were.  
  
Come home darling,  
  
(signed)  
  
Makoto Kino Ireson  
  
Hanlan Ireson  
  
---  
  
Dear Mama,  
  
For the longest time I've felt the same. Can you believe Jaden had a dream he was on another world? That cinched it for me. We're coming home. Um, well, I'm coming home, and bringing my fiancee with me. If you're wondering about the Felynx Alliance, (they've changed the name so many times I'm confused, and that's saying something!), they can't seem to make up their mind about anything. It didn't work out. There was too much concern about my being psychic and an off-worlder. Well, fine. They're so screwed up they can't decide what to do first, rename the towns or start reconstruction! If someone doesn't sort them out, they're going to get into a heap of trouble. This sort of thing is extremely delicate! They don't exactly have the resources to play with.  
  
Oh well, that's their problem now.  
  
On the other front, I've completed my KnightsMage training, and have been Knighted. It's Sir Ayana Kino now, Mama-san. The KnightsMage General was somewhat concerned about my request to leave, but dropped it when he remembered where Usagi was. She's still the most powerful KnightsMage next to him. That amazed me. I mean, she's more powerful now, right? I haven't asked since the end of the war, but how are the Neo Senshi? Besides Usagi, they are the only faction of the KnightsMage I'll be able to interact with. I was crushed to learn Nasura was killed. I can only imagine how they're dealing with it.  
  
There's not much left to tell. We'll be home well before the wedding, which won't be for at least six months. Of course, you can prepare whatever you like! I'm very much looking forward to your cooking. Sapphine is a fine cook, but I miss yours so much! Papa, I love you, and I'm sorry for making you feel sad. I've been trying to stay safe. It hasn't been easy, which is another reason for leaving. Feral Felynx have been rousing things lately. It's scary. Fortunately, Jaden and I are tough enough to take on just about anyone who is foolish enough to try and challenge us.  
  
As for the rest of your letter, there's so much to say! I won't, since I'm coming back. I'd rather do it in person.  
  
Until then,  
  
I love you both will all of my heart.  
  
(signed)  
  
Ayana Kino (soon to be Ayana Kino Lording)  
  
---  
  
Dear Bishojo Neo Senshi,  
  
Forgive me, dearest young warriors, I knew my demise was near. Naturally, how, or when, was masked from me. It must be a somber time. Alternately, it must be a great time, of discovery and challenge for you, having received shards of my divided power.  
  
I know the questions:  
  
"Why didn't she tell us?"  
  
"Why did we receive her power?"  
  
"What now? The war is over!"  
  
Any others you must puzzle through with your own wits. Yet, there are answers I can provide. It may wound you, but foreknowledge of my death would have far from inspired you all. It could have simply have not been divulged. You must understand the logic. My gifts, my power, are one of the few things I could give you. In truth, each of you received a shard of it the day you accepted the crystals that once empowered you. In all honesty, death will be the only way you can truly be free.  
  
From whom? From me. You see, I am a Chaneller. From a very young age I learned of my ability to instill strength in others by manipulating manna, my mind the focal lens, by which I created crystals which could bestow various abilities.  
  
Unfortunately, I never learned how to properly disentangle myself as the source. Spending a week in the hospital due to "unexplained" fatigue, and then shattering the dozen crystals I had given to friends, quickly taught me to be more sparing. It also successfully ended my sixteen year old life. That, however, is water under the bridge.  
  
Neo Senshi, you were given my power because I had to entrust it to someone. You six, especially after defeating and surviving Uraki-Ayo's clones of the Inner Senshi, and his invading armies, have immeasurably more than earned it.  
  
What you do with it is entirely your decision.  
  
That, my dear, young companions, is the "what now." I cannot tell what will come. I do know you are better prepared for whatever may be.  
  
Ayla, I know you will reject the young leader of the foreign soldiers. It is clear to me that you must forget your pride. His want to become a KnightsMage and join you in leadership holds nothing more foreboding than his romantic interest in you. You know that, however, very well. I know also how difficult it will be for you, for it is your bearing the Neo Senshi leadership mantle that fuels that pride. If anything, reconsider his motivations. As for your shadow-cat familiar, that is apparently the result of accepting your aunt's mystic offering. You'll learn how to deal with her, and the trouble she's caused you thus far. I know you won't speak of it to the others, but the mystic star-seal upon your cheek will only complicate matters when you become angry. Be glad you are blessed with a gentle temper. Finally, dear Sol, I know it may be hard to face your mother with such changes, but do so. No one loves you more.  
  
Masurani. Your strength will have only grown since your defeat. I know at this you will no longer wonder. You, like Xalia, are a mutant. It is an oddly limited thing, but extremely remarkable. Goku's Saiyin ability which increases his power level after major loses of battle will be yours, as will Makoto's ability to adapt in battle, and, much to your shock, a transient curse you will have unwillingly received, to transform yourself into a demon-like faerie. There is indeed more, to come with time, but awareness will give you choice. My last words to you are to remember your friendships; your teammates and companions, the Neo Senshi, and the Shirinaui clan, they all care for you very deeply. I know, that like your predecessor, Kino Makoto, you tend to distance yourself in times of emotional tenderness. Do try to seek them, even through you may prefer to step aside.  
  
Naritha, your glass-like fragility is no more representative of your truer self than the grinning eyes of a cat. That you very much are; slender, and beautiful, but swift and deadly, though you restrain yourself very wisely. Nonetheless, you do not feign to ignore your skill, proving your innate wisdom. What am I saying? I know you will be uncertain of your power. It is a fearsome one, and though I cannot ever understand it, I chose you because of your strength. You will learn to control the echo of voices years and miles distant in time and space. Do not forget the honour your mother and father have taught you. Respect yourself, for you have earned my gift through personal integrity. Concerning Yanei, you made the right choice, cherry blossom; have faith in yourself, in your heart, for it is pure, and that love has only enhanced the quality of your life. It will continue to do that if you will listen attentively.  
  
Haisha. Of all of you, you will be the most aware of the changes wrought, if missing the emotional impact. You will know that this war has had a unique effect upon you all. That, however, represents the distinct differences of your personalities. You will have become something you never really were during the trial of battle; internally balanced. Anger may still fuel your power, but you will learn to temper your passions. That, I can see, and have always known, is your greatest struggle. Of course, I was not blind to your sympathetic feelings towards Jisuruka. You always knew that. She experienced similar abuse; thus out of all of the Neo Senshi she could understand you. Save perhaps Xalia. Though I admit, her experience will have been the most unusual. What is important is that Jisuruka will forget you. Usagi and I agreed she is to adopt her sister into her legal, and emotional, family. Jisuruka's fancy arises out of certain self-loathing, just as your emotional needs meet. You know she does not sate your innermost desires. How you will deal with her, I cannot know, but I do know that it will not be easy. Apart from further telepathic manipulation, it could not be. I expect by the time you read this she should already have been accepted in this manner by the Tsukino family. Know that what comes is for your own good, and accept it. A good warrior will tolerate change with a stiff upper lip, but as you are an emotional creature, don't fear tears, dear one. Regarding your changes: The feline tail, ears, and claws may be awkward, and embarrassing, as will the ability to metamorphose into a cat, along with the habits that you must accordingly struggle with, but you will find in them benefit. You are one of the more resourceful young women I have ever known, and a talented tactician. Focus on your skills, and use them to the fullest. Your potential is grand, my dear. Always remember that you are respected and loved by your teammates, even Ayla.  
  
I have both many and few words for you, Xalia, my troubled, winged young woman. You are the youngest of the senshi, and the most prone to self-doubt. You do not yet have your friend's years, even if you have equivalent combat talent. It troubles me to say this, but none of us can relate to what you have suffered through. I do not know how you feel, aside from the prominent self-loathing, and hatred for Uraki-Ayo. Know that you did the right thing, when for many others, they would simply have died, or completely forsaken their values. Facing the deaths of the squires? This, I admit, is something you must do on your own. There is more, I realize that, but try not to focus upon those thoughts. Never forget that you are loved by so many. Your parents know, by mercy. They suffer with you, and offer what loving support they only can. You are not to blame, in any capacity. It pained me deeply to learn of the sexual abuse among the torture you experienced. Do you know I tremble to write these words? Such emotional pause I have not felt in decades. You will live, I know. In the strangest way I feel responsible, as if in choosing you I caused your torture. Do not believe for an instant that I did not have faith in you, for that was unending. Like a mother, I believed you when no one else would. Sometimes faith was all I had. Though I can think of few others I would rather have invested in. It hurts me to a point beyond words. So, I ask you. Forgive me. I write this not long before I will die. We never quite reached you in time. Be strong, Xalia. I know you lock up your feelings, and will hide behind loud bravado, only to suffer silently. But don't turn away from the offered arms of those who so dearly love you. Like the others, you are a survivor. You are ultimately stronger than anything he has done to you. Never forsake your friends, never give up hope. A family is within your reach, but be patient. The damage done was great. Never forget, through all of it, that right is good, and there is justice. You have yours by living.  
  
Jisuruka. No longer concealed is your origin. Nonetheless, neither are you spurned by Usagi, nor the Neo Senshi, who have the most reason to hate you. You fueled the campaign against them, and very nearly obliterated them. On the other hand, you were suffered to experience the same at the hand of your short-term lover, Uraki-Ayo. I know you will agree with me; doubtful beginnings. Beyond this, I know you will make the right choice in the end, for your heart is very much similar to your sister's. You are an integral woman. Even as Uraki-Ayo's consort you refused to participate in Xalia's torture. Expel your guilt, and come past your pains. You have also earned your power, and place among the Neo Senshi, as Sailor Ceres.  
  
I can only wish you the best to come, strength when you lack it, and hope for the future. I loved you all, and am deeply honoured to have been your mentor, and companion.  
  
My love to you all, from the core of my soul,  
  
(signed)  
  
Nasura Iridian  
  
  
A Glimpses End 


End file.
